


Fic: Lives Are For Living.

by silver_sun



Series: Being Human Torchwood crossover verse. [3]
Category: Being Human (UK), Torchwood
Genre: Aliens, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bisexual Male Character, Bisexuality, Coming Out, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Male-Female Friendship, Vampires, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-03
Updated: 2015-07-30
Packaged: 2017-12-22 07:17:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 40
Words: 130,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/910439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silver_sun/pseuds/silver_sun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After being pushed out of the police force following the events of Children of Earth, Andy Davidson tries to build a new life for himself deep in the Welsh countryside.</p><p>After the situation with Larry, Tom McNair walked out off his old life at Honolulu Heights after realising it wasn't what he needed.</p><p>A chance meeting would take their lives in directions that they had never expected and bring them love that they'd not thought they'd find.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Title** Lives Are For Living. (1/?)  
 **Fandoms** Torchwood/Being Human crossover fic.  
 **Characters/pairings** Andy Davidson/Tom McNair. Other TW and BH characters will appear later on.  
 **Word count:** This part 1250. Total will be over 20k.  
 **Rating** This part all ages. Later parts adult.  
 **Contains** Mentions of depression/anxiety. Mentions of past canon character death. In later parts violence, graphic sex, Andy's homophobic mother.  
 **A/N:** Crossover with Being Human. Technically a CoE fix it as it's set in the same 'verse as [Finding Ways To Smile Again](http://the-silver-sun.livejournal.com/210107.html) (although that isn't apparent in much later in the story). Follows on from [Break and Breakaway](http://the-silver-sun.livejournal.com/209427.html#cutid1) from Tom McNair's POV.

 **Summary**  
After being pushed out of the police force following the events of Children of Earth, Andy Davidson tries to build a new life for himself in the deep in the Welsh countryside.  
Tom McNair walked out off his old life after realising it wasn't what he needed.  
A chance meeting would take their lives in directions that they had never expected and bring them love that they'd not thought they'd find.

 

The countryside rolled away on either side of the landrover as Andy drove along the winding road that led up from Rhayader to the Elan Valley.

Central Wales on a late spring day with the sun shining and the wind scudding clouds overhead made the place seem far more idyllic than Andy knew the place to sometimes be. He'd first seen it three months earlier on a bitterly cold February day when he'd come to see what it was his Great Aunt Edith had left him. Although left wasn't quite the right term as she was still alive, if very frail. She'd wanted to make sure that the small hill farm she'd lived on all her life remained in the family and rather than risk leaving it in a will to someone who might sell it straight away.

The fact that there was no livestock left apart from half a dozen chickens that were currently living on a small holding in the next valley had helped Andy make his decision. He'd take on Cwm Elan Farm and try to make a new life for himself.

It had come as a lifeline at at time when he'd most needed it. The past two years had been horrendous and it was only now, isolated from the world and from Cardiff, somewhere Andy had once sworn he'd never leave, that he'd started to feel better about his life and the future.

Parking the battered old landrover in the cobbled yard in front of the farm house, Andy switched off the loud, juddering engine and listened to the quiet of the countryside around him. The distant bleat of a hill sheep, the twittering of a bird and the bubbling of the spring that ran out of the base of the cliff behind the farmhouse and down to join the river in the valley below.

Cwm Elan Farmhouse was a traditional Welsh longhouse and was, if he was honest, in its current state little more than a three roomed shed. Set with it back to a sheer rock face and flanked by two crumbling outbuildings and some rusted bits of corrugated iron that had probably once been a pigsty it was in it current state hardly a dream house.

The farmhouse's three rooms consisted of a bedroom, a sitting room that also contained an ancient range style cooker and a utility room that contained an equally ancient copper and mangle, a sink and a tin bath. He supposed that the small stone room that had once been a coal shed that opened into the utility room might also count – not that it could really be used for anything, it was damp, windowless and the ceiling was barely high enough for him to be stand up in it. And the less that was said about the outside toilet the better.

Despite its problems, Andy had finally found a kind of peace that had been missing from his life for for too long. From the moment the creatures Gwen had called weevils had brought carnage to the police station where he worked in Cardiff things had started to degenerate. Wary glances in his direction and whispers about his involvement with Gwen and Torchwood. Snide comments about how 'he'd been so lucky not gone into the briefing room a few minutes earlier or he might have been caught in the attack.' There's been no 'Bloody hell, are you alright, mate?' because he'd been the one to find most of the senior officers in the station shredded like so much meat as to nearly be unrecognisable. No, for him there had just been suspicion.

Getting out of the landrover, Andy began to unload the things he'd collected from the builders merchant earlier that morning. All too familiar thoughts still churned over in his mind, how that even after the weevil attack things might have been alright but for what happened next.

From the moment the bomb had blown Roald Dahl Plas to pieces things had never been the same. The world had stopped making sense. Andy paused, hands resting on a roll of waterproof fabric what was needed for the barn roof. Even now, more than a year since the day when he'd gone against orders to do what was right the memories were still fresh. The suspension, reinstatement and associated suspicion and isolation from his colleagues that followed still had the ability to leave a sick feeling in his stomach and his nerves on edge.

Closing his eyes, Andy took a few deep breaths until his heart no longer felt like it was trying to beat its way out of his chest. It would be a long time, he thought, until he was able think about what had happened, how he'd effectively been thrown on the scrapheap, forced to take early retirement on supposedly on mental health grounds or face trial for misconduct and maybe even jail time. It had been no choice at all, he'd taken the money knowing that they were paying him off to be rid of what they saw as an embarrassment to the force.

Opening his eyes, Andy ran his hand through his hair, which was staring to curl and fizz over the tops of this ear now that he no longer kept it cut short. Today it was just him, a load of slates that needed removing from the barn roof and an awkward roll of material that needed tacking to the roof joists before the slates could be replaced.

Once the landrover was unloaded and the pile of garden rubbish that Andy had cleared from the around the barn the previous day was raked into a bonfire and lit, he turned his attention to getting to removing the slates.

The breeze dropped as the morning went on, the sun getting hotter as it rose high overhead. Sitting on the roof, a slowly growing pile of slates stacked on the wall top, Andy was confident that he would have this part of the job done by the end of the week.

He'd look at a few books and a blog written by a couple in Cumbria doing a similar kind of renovation, and Andy was fairly sure he'd got the basics of it. Take the old slates off, check the timbers for rot and replace if necessary, nail on the waterproof felt stuff and then put back the slates. Simple if backbreaking work. He didn't mind that, in fact the harder the work the better. Going to bed tired but feeling like he'd really accomplished something had helped his mood since moving here.

It was just after midday and Andy was considering taking a break when he saw a young man walking across the fields towards the farmhouse. A hiker was Andy's first thought as he looked at the man's backpack with its tent roll strapped to the bottom of it and a couple of pans tied to the top. Yet the clothes didn't seem quite right, Andy noted as the man got closer. The vest and cargo shorts had seen better days, clean but worn out.

Setting aside the slate that he'd been trying to remove, Andy was surprised at how easily he fell back into police mode as he made a more thorough assessment. The man was young, late teens to early twenties at most. Five foot six to five foot eight tall, average build, short dark hair. He didn't appear to be armed or in a hurry to either get somewhere or away from anything.

Andy was still trying to decide whether he should call out to the man and ask him if he was lost when the man stopped at the edge of the farmyard and waved.

TBC  



	2. Chapter 2

Spotting the old farmhouse had been a stroke of luck, Tom decided as he took the most direct route across the fields towards it. A farmer who would agree to let him camp on his land and maybe keep his stuff safe for a few days would be welcome with the full moon just two nights away. 

It had been a couple of months since he'd walked out of Honolulu Heights and away from the only people he knew. It had been hard, especially the first week or so, getting use to sleeping outside again, of not having all the thing that people with houses took for granted, like lighting, a roof that didn't leak and hot water when you wanted it. 

It was easier in so ways though. For the first time in Tom's life he was able to do exactly as he pleased. The novelty of that though was starting to wear thin, the loneliness of having nobody to talk to or turn to for advice was rapidly beginning to outweigh the sense of freedom.

Reaching the edge of the farmyard, Tom noted the dilapidated state of it, the hope of being able to camp there fast disappearing. There was a man working on the roof of one of the old barns, and Tom waved as he realised that he had been seen and then called out, “I don't 'spose you know anywhere round here I could camp for a few nights. Somewhere cheap like?”

The man on the roof seemed to think for a moment before calling back, “I don't know, I've only been here a couple of weeks. If you're really stuck you can pitch you tent here for the night. You'd probably have more luck finding somewhere down in Rhayader. It's only a couple of miles and there's a youth hostel there.”

Tom considered it for a moment. He really did need to find somewhere with a shop or two with the full moon so close he really needed to get a chicken. Either that or hope that he could catch a rabbit or two tonight. Staying at a youth hostel was out of the question. Too dangerous and too expensive, but they might be able to tell him where he could find a campsite. “What's the best way to...” Tom paused knowing he would mangle the pronunciation, before finishing, “...That place what you just said.” 

“Wait a minute,” the man called back, climbing ungainly over the centre of the roof. “If you've got a map I'll show you.”

“Thank!” Tom shrugged off his pack, glad to be rid of its weight for a while, and started to look for his map. Technically it wasn't his map, he'd taken it from a library in Conwy where he'd spent a day avoiding torrential rain. It hadn't been borrowed in ages and as long as he gave it back in less than the three weeks that people could borrow the books for Tom decided it wasn't like it was stealing, it was just that he didn't have a library card. 

The was a crash and a clattering of slate and stone falling to the ground, followed by a surprised yell, and Tom looked up to see the man he'd been talking to clinging awkwardly to the roof, one leg through a hole in the slates. 

“Hang on!” Tom shouted, abandoning his pack and running to the wall at the edge of the farmyard. Scrambling over the crumbling stonework, he reached the barn as another slate crashed down on to the cobbled yard.

There was no way to help from the ground and Tom looked around quickly for a way up onto the roof. It took a couple of attempts to get up onto the wall at the end of the building where the slates had already been removed, and not for the first time Tom wished that he was just a little bit taller.

This close to the full moon Tom knew that he was a little stronger and more agile than usual. Not but much admittedly, but he hoped it would be enough as he carefully made his way along the edge of the roof. 

“Are you stuck?” Tom asked as he reached the man. Who was, he realised, now he was up close, both taller and younger than he'd first assumed. Holding onto the top of the roof with one hand and holding out his other for the man to take, he added, “I'm Tom.” 

“Yes, and I'm Andy,” Andy replied sounding worried, but not panicked by his situation, although he didn't let go of the roof to take Tom's hand. 

Looking though a gap in the slates Tom could see part of the beam that had broken and trapped Andy's leg. The wood looked rotten and maybe a bit woodwormy as well and Tom decided that breaking it was probably the best option. “Right, you hold on there,” Tom said pointing to a slightly higher section of roof than Andy was currently holding on to. “I'm going to break it.”

“Break what?” Andy said sounding concerned as he tried to see what Tom had been looking at. 

“The beam.” Tom pulled a couple of the loose slates free to reveal more of the rotten beam and then climbed higher up on the roof so that he could stamp down on it using his full weight, so that he'd have the best chance of breaking it. “You ready?”

Andy gripped the roof tighter and closed his eyes. “Not really, no.”

“Oh right.” Hoping that the roof would continue to take their combined weight, Tom waited. 

Eventually, when Tom hadn't done anything for a couple of minutes, Andy said, sounding rather annoyed and lot more anxious than he had before. “What are you waiting for?”

“You said you weren't ready,” Tom said, confused about why he was being snapped at. “So I was waiting, weren't I?”

“Well I'm ready now.”

“Okay.” Still wondering he'd missed something important, Tom stamped down hard on the beam. It made a cracking noise but didn't give way. “I'll give it another go.”

Andy nodded and closed his eyes, breathing speeding up as he gripped white knuckled to the roof.

The second stamp didn't break it, but Tom could see that it was working, and he was relieved that on his third attempt that it gave with a splintering groan, part of it clattering to the floor inside the barn. 

Moving careful over to Andy, who was still hold on tightly to the roof, Tom held out his hand to him again. “You gonna to be alright climbin' down?” 

Andy nodded and then held on tightly to Tom's hand while he carefully lifted his leg out of the hole in the roof. Only once they were at the other end of the roof where they could climb down to the ground did Andy let go. Tom scrambled down first, ready to help if Andy slipped again. 

Sitting down on a pile of plastic sacks containing sand and cement next to the barn, Andy rolled up his trouser leg to get a better look at what damage had been done. Tom paused for a moment to look at the few scraps and scratches before deciding there didn't seem to be anything too much wrong. Andy still seemed a bit shaken up, so hoping he was doing the right thing, Tom said, “I'll get us some tea.”

“If you're sure,” Andy said, sounding doubtful as prodded the largest of the scratches.

“Nah, it ain't no trouble,” Tom called back as he went to fetch his pack. “I could do with a brew and all.”

This was definite one of those 'what would Annie do situation?' situations, Tom decided as he took a camping kettle out of his pack. Dividing situations into what would Annie dos where he needed to nice to people, what would dad do where he needed to fight or plan things, what would Nina do when you needed to be sensible and what would George do when it was about being clever had seemed to help with dealing with things when he felt like he was getting a little out of his depth. He supposed that he'd have eventually had ones for Alex and Hal, but he hadn't know Alex all that well, and Hal would have probably been about being weird, so it might not have been all that helpful after all. 

“It really isn't that bad,” Andy said, seeming to take Tom's silence as concern. 

“Oh no, it's not that. I were just thinkin' about someone. She made the best cups of tea and always knew what to say.” After filling the kettle with water from a bottle in his pack, he put it over the fire to boil. Annie had become somewhere between a big sister and a mum during the time they'd lived at Honolulu Heights and Tom didn't think there would ever be a day where he didn't miss her. “She were the best being nice to people.”

“You're not doing that bad a job of it yourself,” Andy said looking at the scratches on his leg and picking out a splinter. “Thank you.”

“It were nothin',” Tom said sitting down next to him. “You were going to help me, so it were kinda my fault you near felt through the roof anyways.” 

“At least you were there.” Andy shuddered. “If you hadn't who knows how long I'd have been up there.” 

“You working on this place by yourself then?” Tom asked looking round. The farm seemed like it needed a lot more work than could easily be managed by a person on their own.

Andy nodded and picked unsuccessfully at another splinter.

“'Ere let me have a go,” Tom said, taking a penknife out of his pocket. “It's got some tweezers on here somewhere.” 

Andy gave a small hiss of pain as Tom quickly found the splinter and pulled it free. “It weren't that bad, were it?” Tom said flicking the offending splinter into the fire. 

“I suppose not,” Andy replied, rubbing his leg. “I feel rather stupid honestly.”

“Could have happened to anyone.” Tom took a rather battered first aid kit out of his pack and offered to Andy, grateful that his dad had taught him to always be prepared to look yourself. “So are you gonna be a farmer when its' done or are you just one of those people fix up houses and sell them, like the they have on the telly.” 

“Neither.” Andy accepted it and started to clean up his leg. “I was thinking of opening it as a camp site. It's got a long way to go before it'll open, but if you need somewhere to camp for a night or two and you don't mind there being no hot water then you can stay here.” 

“You really mean it?” Tom smiled and poured hot water onto the teabags he'd put into mugs for them both. “'Cause that'd be great.”


	3. Chapter 3

The tea wasn't too bad, although Andy suspected that the milk was getting to the point were it would soon have to be thrown away. Hot and too sweet compared to how he'd usually drink it, it did seem to help calm his nerves a little. The fact that Tom seemed completely unfazed by needing to rescue him and was apparently more prepared than a boyscout for dealing things, helped too. Once he knew he would have probably been able to think of something witty to say, but he was out of practice with talking to people who weren't questioning about his every moved or trying to fix him. 

Sitting next to Tom, Andy could see three thick, raised lines of scar tissue that were plainly visible through his short cropped, dark hair. They looked, Andy thought, like huge claw marks. But whether he was projecting his own experience with weevils onto it he wasn't sure. Realising that he'd been staring too intently for just a little too long, he quickly looked down at the ornate cross picked out in dark ink on Tom's calf, and said “That's a nice tattoo.”

“This?” Tom pulled the leg of his cargo shorts up to his knee so that Andy could see the rest of it. “I got this done for me eighteenth. Me dad saved up for it.” He smiled brightly for a moment and then it faded. “I were going to get another one done for me twenty first, but...” he stopped and shrugged.

Way to go, Andy thought bitterly, upset the only person who's been nice to you recently. Is it any wonder nobody wants to know you any more? “Sorry, I shouldn't have asked.”

“Nah, it's okay. I just forgot, that's all.” Tom got up and turned away rubbing at his eyes as he did. “I wouldn't have wanted to get it wiv out m'dad anyways.”

Something painful twisted in Andy's chest as he saw the stiff set of Tom's shoulders. Standing up, Andy felt a slight twinge of pain from his scratched leg, but nothing too bad, and then, hoping that he was doing the right thing, put his hand on Tom's arm. “How long ago did you lose him?” Andy asked carefully, falling back on his police training for dealing with people. 

Tom sniffed loudly and rubbed his eyes again. “I'll be a year in a few weeks.”

It had been a few years since Andy had lost his own father and he knew all too well how grief could ambush you at the oddest of times. He wondered if he should try the 'time heals all' routine, but he couldn't bring himself to do it, not when he wasn't sure that it was even true any more. And telling him just to cheer up was too thoughtless – he'd had enough of people trying that with him when he'd felt like he life was falling apart after his suspension from the police. Instead he just said, “You want to go for a drink?” 

 

XXXX

It took a little longer than the half hour or so Andy thought it would take to walk down into Cwm Elan village, but the weather was fine and his leg felt reasonably okay. 

The Red Dragon pub in the centre of the village was small and traditional, with low beams that meant he had to duck every time he went through a door. Andy knew that it was mostly an air it carefully maintained act to attract the hikers and cyclists who stopped of there on their way to walk and ride around the hills and lakes. 

After two and a half pints, Andy realised that Tom was definitely getting rather tipsy. Funny and affectionate, but apparently failing to realise that was being either, Andy couldn't find it in himself to object as Tom leant against his shoulder and told him awkward customers in a cafe he'd once worked at. 

All in all, Andy thought, as he watched him talk, drink and crunch his way through a packet of crisps, Tom was actually rather adorable. It had been a long time since he'd felt this relaxed around anybody or had anybody to talk with. The fact that Tom knew nothing of his past, didn't look at him with suspicion or constantly ask him how he was made Andy hate the fact that he was going to have to tell Tom that they'd probably better stop after their current drinks or it would be an interesting walk back to the farm. 

Wondering if he should suggest that they get soft drinks for the next round, and hoping to keep the conversation going for a little bit longer, Andy said, “So your camping trip, where are you planning on going next?”

Tom frowned and then said, “I dunno. Just wherever I want I 'spose. Not like I've got to be anywhere and no ones waiting for me.” 

Either Tom was astonishingly innocent or just didn't care about what happened to him, Andy though concerned about was really going on in Tom's head. Going out and potentially getting drunk with somebody you didn't know and telling them that no one knew where you were and no one would miss you if you went missing was, Andy decided, as saddening as it was dangerous. Tom was the sort of young man that all too often fell through the cracks in society, the cruel and uncaring of the world using them for their own gain before either leaving them broken and destitute or occasionally dead. 

Tom had fallen silent and Andy wondered for a moment if perhaps he'd had too much to drink. Not that what they'd was a lot, but he got the impression that Tom very rarely drank and they hadn't had anything to eat yet to help soak it up. Tom looked sad though rather than sick, but Andy thought he'd better ask, just in case. “Are you alright?”

“Jus' thinkin'” Tom closed his eyes and leant back against the wall behind his seat. “About m'dad.”

“They say it helps to remember the good times,” Andy said, rather at a loss what to say as he didn't want to make the situation worse. 

“I do remember the good bits,” Tom said, sounding confused about why anyone would think he wouldn't. “It's the bad bits, like how I found him, that I don't wanna remember.”

Tom looked more in need of a hug than just about anyone Andy had seen, so he carefully put an arm around him. When Tom didn't pull away, he said, “That's awful. Had he been ill or...” Andy stopped. He wasn't a policeman on duty carrying out an investigation, he was just a bloke in the pub who was trying to help somebody who really needed a friend. 

“I'd gone out for the night, stuff I had to do...” Tom trailed off, then picking up his pint, gulped what was left of it. “The house didn't feel right when I got back. And I found just lying there on the floor, blood everywhere.”

Any idea that Andy might have had about Tom's late, and obviously much missed father having expired quietly in front of the telly died before it was fully realised. The quiet, matter of fact tone laced through with despair with which he said it, Andy found heartbreaking, and his own voice wasn't quite steady when he said, “Are you going to be okay?”

Tom sniffed and nodded. “I 'spose. Me dad would've wanted me to be.” 

It wasn't all that convincing an answer, but it was better in Andy's opinion than an outright lie like 'of course I am.' Hoping that he wouldn't regret it and that it wouldn't cause further upset, Andy said, “Do you want to talk about it or anything?” 

Looking down, Tom picked at the edge of a beermat, scraps of paper falling onto the floor.”Nah, not much to tell.”

Tom lies so badly that under different circumstances, Andy thinks, it might even be funny. Now it just worries him, not because he thinks that Tom could be dangerous or had anything to do with the death, but that perhaps the reason he's wandering the countryside with no place to go is because he's in danger. 

“Anyway,” Tom continued. “I don't really know yer, so I probably shouldn't be tellin' you all this stuff. Yer be thinking I'm right wet.” 

“Sometimes it's easier to tell someone who doesn't know you and won't judge you.” The words, which were tied up with too many of his own insecurities were out before Andy could stop himself.   
Talking to people who knew him, especially about things that would change their perception of him had never been something he'd found easy. 

A lot of the time Gwen had been one of the few people he'd really been able to turn to. But since the mess he'd made of supporting Gwen when she'd gone to see Ianto's sister, she'd become rather more distant with him. He'd been trying to spare her the kind of things a grief stricken family might say upon the shock revelation that their dearly departed was gay. He knew how his own mother would have reacted. It was one of the reasons why still hadn't come out to the world and admitted that he found both men and women attractive. Between his family's attitudes and the already difficult situation at work, he'd felt like admitting it would cause his world to fall apart even more than it already had. 

There were a few men in Cardiff who knew and who'd spent a hopefully memorable night with him,but other than that it was a life lived in secret. Because his choices, as he was them, was either being cut off from his family because of their intolerance or a life secrecy and denial about his own sexuality. They were both no win situations where he knew he'd miserable no matter what choice he made. 

He wished he'd told Gwen before everything fell apart. Part of him knew that the distance was because Gwen had so much crap going on in her life with the disintegration of Torchwood and a young baby to deal with, but after months of suspicion and being blanked by colleagues he'd worked with for years, he couldn't silence the idea that it was all his fault, that it was him that was the problem, that he just made everything worse. Just like you did with Nikki Bevan, he thought bitterly. He still didn't know what had happened, just that afterwards she told him never to contact her again. 

Tom prodded his shoulder and Andy blinked, suddenly realising that Tom had been speaking to him. Trying to concentrate on something other than the anxiety that was trying to claw at him in a way he'd not let it in some time, he said, “Sorry I didn't quite catch that.”

“I said are you okay? Only you was staring off, like you wasn't really here.” Tom looked at him, a worried frown on his face. “Perhaps you've had enough.” He nodded towards Andy's drink. 

Andy wanted to snap at him. To tell him no, he not alright and it's not down to having a couple of pints. It's because he's lonely and his life feels completely out of control and nothing that he can do make it any better, and Tom being there and reminding him of just how much he missed just having friends was making it worse. Tom didn't deserve that though, there was nothing about him that didn't seem to be nice and caring. So Andy nodded. “It been a long day, so I think we should head back. I can get us something to eat if you like.”

There was a flicker of something in Tom's eyes that suggested that he realised that Andy wasn't being entirely truthful, but he just smiled and said, “Okay.”

 

 **Additional notes:**   
Tom's tattoo looks like this. http://ic.pics.livejournal.com/the_silver_sun/12488175/75676/75676_original.jpg Screen cap is from the end of the first episode Tom appeared in, BH 3x01 Lia. 

The Red Dragon pub in Cwm Elan is fictional. There doesn't appear to be a pub in the village as far as I can tell from maps and google street view. 

From Andy's POV at this point he believes what happened in Children of Earth is what actually happened regards Ianto. The Ianto, Jack, Doctor storyline from Finding Ways to Smile Again is happening rough parallel timewise to this. 

The situation with Nikki Bevan (Jonah Bevan's mum in Adrift) is based off a much older short fic I wrote for back in 2008. And can be found here: http://the-silver-sun.livejournal.com/31568.html#cutid1 

 

TBC - next part on Wednesday 14/8


	4. Chapter 4

It was a nice time of day to be walking, Tom thought as they started back towards the farm, all golden sunlight and light breezes off the hills that rose steeply around them. Beside him Andy was quiet. Lost in thought, Tom decided. He'd seen Annie get that look when she'd been remembering George, Nina and Mitchell or her old life in Bristol. It made him wonder who or where Andy was missing.

He knew people would be surprised that he'd noticed at all. People, especially normal human people always tended to assume he was a bit thick, like the manageress at the hotel. In some things, like book learning or social skills, Tom knew he was less than clued up and it was that that had allowed Kirby, Cutler and Larry to play him for a fool. Kirby had been malicious ghost and Cutler had been a vampire, but Larry had been a werewolf like him and that was why he suspected it had hurt so much. 

All the lies Larry had fed him about the wolf, about what it did to you, about how it made you stupid and a failure, didn't hold up, not when he really thought about it. How could it be the wolf making him stupid? George had been smart despite the wolf? Nina had been a doctor both before and after she'd been changed, so smart and a success. And then there was Allison. He smiled, Allison had been brilliant, smart and funny and everything that he'd believed he was waiting for to find love. His smile faded. She wouldn't have stayed that way if she'd stayed with him. What happened afterwards with Annie and Eve, and with Hal and with Alex and Cutler and the Old Ones, she would have tried to fight or to understand and it would have killed her. Either actually dead or at least the brilliant, loving part that wanted to change the world for the better for everyone.

It had been for the best letting Allison leave, he told himself. He hoped she'd manage to get through university and become a barrister like she'd wanted. The world needed more people like her in Tom's opinion. The fact that he secretly had a thing for women dressed as judges or barristers was another. It was something that he probably wouldn't admit to anyone, rather like the feelings that he'd found he had towards Hal after they'd pretended to be a couple when Eve needed to see a doctor. It had been awkward, not so much because Hal was another bloke, but Hal was a vampire and after being brought up to stick pointy pieces of wood into them it was quite a thing to start wondering what it would be like not to just pretend to be a couple. 

They got back to the farm with almost no conversation passing between, but Andy seemed happier as he let them back into the farmyard, tension dropping from him as he walked over the cobbles to the farmhouse.

There wasn't much to the farmhouse as far as Tom could see. Just a kitchen-living room with a couple of doors off it, which he supposed had to be a bedroom and a bathroom or maybe a kitchen. It seemed lived in though. Bookcases with a mixture of sci-fi, fantasy and non-fiction books, were pushed into a couple of the corners, while a table and chairs and a sofa filled a lot of the other floor space. 

Going over to the range cooker that occupied one corner of the kitchen-living room, Andy opened the hatch to check the fire. “Oh well that's just brilliant.”

“Has it gone out?” Tom asked. The wood fired cooker was like nothing that he'd used before, but he'd had enough experience of lighting camp fires that he knows he should be able to getting going with minimal difficulty. “Do you want me to have a go at getting it going again?”

Andy seemed to think for a moment, then said, “You can have a go, but it's temperamental thing. I should probably get it replaced.”

“Nah, I think it's got character.” Tom looked at the pipe leading into the wall. “Have you had the chimney swept?”

“Not yet. I was going to do it myself, eventually. It just didn't seem that important, not like getting the roof done.” Andy tapped the pipe. “Do you really think it'll make much of a difference.”

“Might do, depends how long it's been since anyone did it.” Tom looked at the pile of wood and old pieces of newspaper in a bucket next to the fire. It probably weren't polite to ask if Andy had been lighting it properly, so he said, “I should be able to get it going though.”

Andy looked at the pile of sticks and paper Tom was sorting through, trying to find the smallest pieces. “You were a boyscout, weren't you?”

Tom hesitated, wondering whether to tell the truth that he'd hadn't done any of the usual things kid did growing up or whether that would raise more questions that he'd find it difficult to answer. He realised his expression must have looked blank as Andy said, “You know woggles, dib dib dob and helping old ladies with their shopping.”

Tom shook his head. His somewhat limited knowledge of what scouts were came from some comments Hal had made and honestly he wasn't entirely sure about how it all worked. “No, I just used to do a lot of camping with me dad.” Tom snapped some of the smaller sticks into kindling and arranged it on top of the crunched up paper. “Well when we weren't in the van.”

“I thought about getting a camper van, before I got this place” Andy said, getting some tins out of a cupboard. “Freedom of the open road and all that.”

“They're alright.” Tom held a match to the paper and watched the edges blacken before catching fire. “But they ain't much fun in the winter. You're better of with a house.”

Putting the tins down on the table he looked curiously at Tom. “You actually lived in a van?”

“Yeah well mostly. I lived in this old hotel for a bit after dad.” He added a few more sticks to the fire making sure they caught light before adding anything larger. “It were nice there by the sea, having a job like a normal person.”

The look Andy gave him was somewhere between confusion and pity, and Tom suddenly felt very defensive of his past. Of course Andy wouldn't understand, he was just an ordinary person. This was why his dad had kept them hidden, kept them moving. Vamps might use you or even kill you, but it was normal people if they found out, if they told the world, who could really destroy you.

Andy seemed as if he was going to ask another question, then he shrugged and opened a drawer in the welsh dresser opposite the range. Getting out a tin opener, he said, “You don't mind if it's just eggs, chips and beans, do you?”

“Course not.” Tom looked at the fire that was starting to burn brightly, the smaller pieces of wood alight enough to catch the couple of larger logs he'd put on top. “Is there anything else you want me to do?”

“You could do the potatoes,” Andy said, then almost immediately shook his head. “You don't have to though. I mean you're a guest. My mam would never let me hear the last of it if she knew.”

“Why?” Tom asked as he went over to the veg rack which had been pushed into a gap between the dresser and a bookcase. Taking out a few potatoes, he said, “You're giving me free grub, it'd be rude not to help. It's like holding doors open or ladies and old people or how you shouldn't steal from honest hard working folk.”

“Really?” Andy said skeptically. 

“Yeah, me dad was full of good advice,” Tom replied as he started to cut up the potatoes. “He always knew what to do.” He wondered what his dad would have thought about him setting out on his own or pitching up at the farm for a few nights. He hoped he would have been alright with it, especially as he was still trying to do what he'd wanted, to have a normal life. He'd only killed two vampires since leaving Honolulu Heights and compared to what life had been when his dad had still been alive it was almost like not fighting at all. Admittedly his dad had thought that he'd been leaving him at the hotel with George and Nina and Annie, the closest thing to fictional pack that his dad had invented when he'd been a kid to try and make their life more bearable.

Finding out all the stuff he'd believed about the pack, about what had happened to his mum and how he'd been born a werewolf was a lie and that his dad wasn't even really his dad had hurt like nothing else he'd known. Even the transformation in all it's bone-breaking awfulness was easier to deal with than that. They'd got through it in the end though and he would always think of Anthony McNair as his dad regardless of what had happened. 

“I think those are small enough.”

Tom looked down at the potato he'd been slicing. The chips were on the thin and decidedly wonky side, but not a complete loss. “At least they'll cook quick,” he said scooping them up and dropping them into a pan on the top of the range. 

“There is that,” Andy replied, seeming amused rather annoyed at his lack of concentration. 

With the chips frying in the pan and the beans beginning to bubble in another, Tom glanced round at Andy who was clearing plans, paperwork, DIY odds and ends and the cup and plate left over from breakfast from the table. Andy seemed like a good bloke. Not all lying flattery like Larry or Kirby had been or even full of slick half truths like Cutler, just interested in him and maybe a bit lonely. He didn't seem like the sort to be working alone, doing stuff like taking slates of a roof, not that Tom was sure what sort of person would be likely to, but Andy seemed rather lacking in some of the practical skills that he would have thought were necessary.

Giving the beans a quick stir, Tom wondered if he should say anything, maybe suggest that he could help out for a bit in exchange for letting him camp there. It was tempting, but with the full moon the following night, he decided that it was probably best to get that out of the way before asking for anything. 

 

TBC – next part on Sunday. 

 

Notes.

Sorry for delay on this, I know I said Wednesday and it's Friday, but I was getting everything transferred to a new laptop. The next part which is nearly written will be up on Sunday.

For readers not familiar with Being Human, Tom backstory, as incredible, sad and occasionally ridiculous as it is, is his canon one. Including growing up living in a van in the woods, pretending to be Hal's boyfriend, the situation with Allison, having a thing for female barristers and repeating back his dad's often rather odd combinations of advice – such as 'Always be kind and polite and have the materials to make a bomb.'


	5. Chapter 5

Tom had left as the evening shadows had started to get longer, taking his pack and its rolled up tent out to where the fields met the woodland a few hundred metres from the side of the farmhouse.

Andy found it made the house seem strangely empty without him, despite the fact that Tom had only been there a couple of hours and was, with the exception of his Aunty Edith's solicitor, the only other person to have ever been in the house with him.

From his bedroom window Andy could just see the faint light of a torch or lantern as Tom finished sorting out his tent. It was dry and warm night, the near full moon lighting up the valley. It was, Andy thought, the perfect weather for sleeping out under the stars. Yet part of him wanted to go down to the tent and ask Tom to come back to the house. The other wanted to join Tom out there under the spreading beech trees, sit around a camp fire with a few bottles of beer and talk about nothing important until the sky started to brighten with the dawn, as he'd done with friends as a teenager.

Not that he'd seen any of them in years, those friendships had slowly drifted away after he joined the police. The awkwardness that people seemed to have being around a police officer spilling over into the times when he was of duty, conversations becoming generic, guarded and dull, until they had slipped away altogether. There was reason that for a lot of people in the police their friends also tended to be in the service as well or at least a closely connected one. 

Turning over in bed, Andy looked up at the beams in the ceiling. He was tired, but he knew that there was no way that his mind was going to switch off just yet. Not wanting to think about his own life, or lack of it, Andy turned his attention back to Tom.

Tom who was definitely distracting and fascinating. Tom who seemed so nice and who maintained an almost painfully naïve sense of trust despite life having dealt him a spectacularly bad hand. Growing up in a van with only his dad, moving from one place to another with nowhere to really call home and no friends or family to turn to when his father was murdered. And now he was homeless and jobless with nobody in the world who apparently cared about him or missed him. 

Andy rolled over again just in time to see the faint light by Tom's tent go out. Sighing, he got out of bed and went back through to the living room and sat down at the table. He couldn't let Tom go without at least trying to help him.

Employing somebody to help him renovate the farm and turn it into a campsite had been something he'd considered, but having a group of builders there or haggling with contractors wasn't something that he'd felt ready to do. Tom was different though, employing him to do a few odd jobs for a few hours a week until he sorted himself out somewhere to live and maybe a full time job seemed like it would be something that would be good for both of them. 

The settlement or more accurately bribe, he thought bitterly, that he'd been given for leaving the police had been very generous, a pension and cash lump sum as if he'd completed a police officer's standard thirty year service, rather than the ten years that he actually had. With the farm being his outright, and with no mains gas or electricity to pay and the water coming from a spring there was only food, council tax and the associated costs of keeping the landrover on the road. He could live on it for a long time as long as he wasn't too extravagant with it.

A lot of the lump sum was set aside for jobs that Andy couldn't do himself, like having a new septic tank fitted for the toilet, more toilets for people camping there, solar panels for the house and when it was finished the barn as well, a new back-up generator for when it was wasn't sunny enough for them to work and the costs of paying contractors to fit it all. It would all be money well spent though or at least it would be spent once he actually got the farm to a stage where he could get it all fitted. 

With so much of the money already allocated he knew he couldn't afford to employ Tom full time, but something like twenty hours a week, plus free camping and free food he hoped would be enough to tempt him to stay for a while. Tom's lack of address meant that him having a bank account was unlikely, so it would have to be cash in hand. Not strictly legal, Andy knew, but after the couple of years he's had he's quite happy to ignore certain parts of it where it's not actually hurting anybody. 

The worse that could happen was that Tom would take offence at being offered work like he was a charity case and leave. Andy would be no worse off than he already was if he did, but he knew it would be a very long time before he stopped worrying about Tom if he did.

The clock showed a quarter to three before Andy had finished looking through all his bank statements and costings paperwork for the renovation of the farm. Exhausted, but satisfied that he could afford to employ Tom for at least a couple of months, Andy finally went to bed. 

x-x-x

The sun was only just above the horizon, the early morning sky still streaked with the colours of dawn, when Andy woke. Yawning and wondering if Tom had managed to get a better night's sleep in his tent, Andy when through to the living room.

After a couple of attempts at lighting the range which seemed even more resistant to his efforts to get a fire burning than usual, Andy gave up and lit the camping stove. Coffee made him feel slightly more awake and after a couple of cups of it and some breakfast, Andy decided it was now late enough to go and see if Tom was awake. 

Tom's tent was pitched in slight hollow at edge of the small wood that bordered the edge of the farm, the branches of the trees spreading out above it. The tent looked like it had seen better days, the material faded and most of the seams repaired with gaffer tape, but Andy suspected that it was still waterproof as Tom had seemed quite capable to when it came to practical tasks. 

Dressed in the same rather tatty shorts and vest that he'd been wearing the previous day, Tom was sitting on a tree stump, his back to him, while he warmed his by a small fire. The fire was burning brightly in a carefully dug and stone edged shallow pit, his battered camping kettle and mess tin style pan apparently full of porridge carefully propped over the flames. 

“Mornin'” Tom said standing up, not seeming startle at all that Andy had walked up behind him. “Hope you don't mind me using bits of wood out of there.” He gestured to the woodland. “There's a fair old bit of fallen stuff in there that if you get it cut up proper and stacked to dry it'd be right good on that fire up at the house.” 

“I've not even looked in there,” Andy said truthfully. It was enough work getting the farm sorted out without having to think about woodland management or whatever it was called. “Take whatever you need out of there, ” 

“Thanks. You really sure you don't mind though?” He asked, concern edging into his voice. “Only I don't want you be short come winter. I mean you could probably sell some of the stuff, like they do at garages sometimes in those string sacks, if you wanted to maybe get some coal instead.”

Tom was far more practical and knowledgeable about the things that needed doing, Andy thought, than he could hope to be for until he'd spent at least a year on the farm, probably making a complete idiot of himself half the time because he hadn't got a clue what he was doing. Certain now that he was doing the right thing, Andy pushed ahead with this plan. 

“Actually I've been thinking,” Andy said hoping that he didn't end up sound too pushy or desperate, the last thing he wanted was to drive Tom away by being too weird. “It's a lot of work to get this old place turned into a camp site and yesterday made me realise that maybe working on it by myself isn't a good idea, and you did say that you weren't in a hurry to get anywhere. So would you be interested in working here? I could pay you for say twenty hours a week, plus free camping and food. I mean if you want to, that is.” 

Eager and earnest, Tom smiled as, without a pause, grabbed Andy's hand and shook his enthusiastically. "Course I do. Yer won't regret it. So what you need me to do?"

Relieved that Tom was staying, but still tired after only having a couple of hours sleep, Andy decided that he wasn't going to be working on the barn and risking making an idiot of himself though another mishap caused by a lapse of attention on his part just yet. Doing a few small jobs round the house and then going back to bed and trying to get more sleep sounded like the best plan. “No, I've got a few other things to go. Any way, you'll want to get your camping gear sorted out and maybe take a walk down to Rhayader to buy anything you need, as you won't really get a chance tomorrow.”

"Do ya need me to work on Sunday then?"

"No, Monday will be fine," Andy replied, hearing the hesitation in Tom's voice. Tom didn't seem like the type to observe organised religion, but so much about Tom seem contradictory. Perhaps his family had been religious? Maybe that's why the tattoo was a cross rather than skulls or some so called tribal design. Thinking that his mother would be nodding her head in approval at the young man right now, he said, "There's a chapel down in Elan Village or a church in Rhayader. If you want to go."

Tom frowned and then said, "Do you think I should? I mean is that normal like round here?"

And there was that undefinable strangeness again, Andy thought. Why was Tom so concerned by trying to do what others would call normal? "I just thought that's why you didn't want to work on Sunday. It seemed like the most likely reason."

"No, it ain't like that," Tom started to put his trainers on. "It's just some there's some other stuff I really need to do, so I might be a bit late on Sunday morning, and I didn't want you thinkin' that I didn't want the job, 'cause I really do."

Andy decided it was none of his business what Tom needs to do, even if he was a little curious about what it might be, given what he'd said the previous day. "Okay, Monday it is then. If you need anything just come up to the house, like if you want cook or use the phone."

"Thanks." Tom smiled again like Andy's given him something amazing. "I bet this place'll be great when you get it all done up."

Andy looked out across the sunlit valley. “Do you know, I really think it will,” he said, finding that for the first time he could really see himself living and working there rather than just surviving. 

 

TBC. Next part Wednesday 21/8

 

Note. 

The knowledge about how pensions are calculated come (partially) from the job I do, but for anyone interested the figures would be (in Andy's case) half of actual annual pay for the pension, plus three years worth of pay lump sum.


	6. Chapter 6

It was just over three miles from the farm to Rhayader, first down the winding farm track and then along a narrow country road, whose only traffic seemed to be cyclists and the occasional tractor or 4x4.   
Tom walked along happily enjoying the sights and scents of the countryside. His dad had always said that the few hours before the change were the best, when you had the sense of the wolf, when you could feel how it made you stronger. It was when they'd hunted vampires the most. Not that he was going to think about hunting vampires, he was supposed to be giving it up, he told himself, and being a normal person.

Having a job was part of being like a normal human. Not that all normal humans worked, but getting a job wasn't considered odd. It wasn't usual amongst the 'not quite human anymores' though. Admittedly it would be pretty hard for a ghost to get a job what with the whole not being able to be seen thing, Tom thought. Vampires sometimes did, but just so they could get into positions of power like Herrick had done in the police or Cutler had as a lawyer so they could manipulate people, so he wasn't sure if that counted. Nina and George who'd had jobs had been the exception for werewolves. Most, as far as Tom could tell, lived as he and his dad had – living rough and just trying to get by and dodging vampires who wanted to catch you, sling you in a cage and make you fight somebody for their entertainment. 

He looked back at where the farm was now hidden amongst the rolling hills and smiled. He was well out of that old life now and things were definitely looking up. 

Rhayader proved to be town built at a crossing on the river Wye, full of old buildings, narrow streets and places that catered to tourists. Which was great if you wanted to buy a souvenir tea towel, a decorative spoon or some over priced fudge in a box whose lid could be used as postcard. Not so much use if you wanted to steal a chicken. 

Not that Tom particularly liked stealing, but most of the time it had been the only way him and his dad had had enough to eat. The lack of a large supermarket or other big store was definitely a problem, Tom thought as he made his way through the small market town, as he couldn't afford to buy a piece of meat big enough to use to make decent a scent trail, and his dad had told him never to steal from family businesses no matter how much you needed something. The reason had mostly been because it wasn't fair, but it had also been because you ran a bigger risk of getting caught in a small shop. There wasn't any time to catch anything now either, so although he didn't really like the idea of transforming in a new area without having set a trail first, he knew how to minimize the risk. The hills and reservoirs high above the farms and village was remote enough that he could do it without running into anybody. 

It wasn't any fun being completely skint, Tom thought, as he looked at things in the shops. Not that there was too much he really needed, but it would be nice to be able to get a few extras sometimes. There'd be time for that though after he got paid, he told himself. So after using the last of the money he had left for some bits and pieces he couldn't really do without, like soap, toothpaste, matches and something to eat on the way back, he set off for the farm. 

The scent of a vampire took him by surprise as he turned the corner past the post office. Senses sharp with moonrise just a few hours away he knew that the vampire hadn't been there in last couple of hours, but it had definitely passed by that spot within the last twelve hours or so. 

Tom scowled. He didn't like to think that there were vamps in the area. It was a nice, quiet little town, where families went on holiday and Andy came to shop. Having vampires wandering about the place wasn't, Tom though, acceptable. Wishing that he had thought to bring a stake with him, but knowing that he was able to improvise if necessary, he started to follow the trail. 

The scent wasn't of a vampire he recognised. There were a few he knew he'd know instantly, like Hal or Herrick or Cutler. Herrick and Cutler were dead though and the scent definitely wasn't Hal's. Not that he'd be worried if it was Hal's, well apart worrying why Hal was out here, if Hal was following him. Hal had been an alright bloke and had been about as good as vamp got, providing he didn't feed. He hoped that Hal continued to be his oddly obsessive domino stacking self who'd stayed off the blood for fifty years. He really didn't want to be the one to have to stake him one day. 

The trail was faint, blurred with the movement of other people, but Tom followed it through Rhayader until it finally stopped at the edge of town in a pub car park. There was another scent in the car park where the vampire trail ended, something odd and unfamiliar. Rank and acrid with just the hint of sewers, it was unsettling as he couldn't think what could have produced it, all he could tell was that it had been alive. The vamp, whoever he was, Tom was sure from the scent it was a he, had got a car or van with something unknown and smelly and driven away. It wasn't the most satisfying end to the search, as despise his dad wanting him to give up hunting vamps, part of him still felt that a search for a vampire should really end with it being a pile of dust on the end of his stake. 

There wasn't any way to continue the search, so Tom sat down on a low wall by the side of the river Wye opposite the pub to eat the pie he'd bought earlier. There wasn't going to enough time to stop off at the farm now before he changed, not if he wanted to find somewhere safe and isolated to do it, Tom thought sadly. He hoped that Andy wouldn't be too annoyed about him not showing up for whatever he'd cooked for their evening meal. 

With one last look back at the car park and its odd smell, Tom started walking along the footpath at the side of the one a stream that flowed into the Wye, following it up to where it rose in the hills. 

Evening sunlight sparkled on the deep, clear waters of the Gerreg Ddu and Caban Coch reservoirs as Tom crossed the narrow strip of land between them. The long, winding curve of them followed a natural depression in the hills provided a natural barrier with Rhayader, Elan village and the scattered outlying farms on one side and the open moorland on the other. 

With moonrise less than an hour away he was aware of every creature around him, rabbits on the edges of the fields, birds in the trees and a fox slinking through the undergrowth. While more distant there was the smell of sheep in the high pastures, the faint scent of horses where a pony trekking group has passed through earlier in the day and the smoky tang of camp fires and disposable barbecues at camp site. 

As the sun grew lower on the horizon Tom left the footpath moved deeper into the woods. He could feel the shift starting, an ache deep in his bones growing, his muscles twitching and cramping. He could take it for now, just a soft gasp escaping him at each surge of pain. His dad had taught him how to bear it, not that he was as good at it as him, his dad had been able to keep nearly silent until partially transformed. 

That was the worse bit of the change really, Tom thought, closing his eyes and flexing his shoulders, the part where you still had enough awareness to register and remember the pain. The worse part over all though had to be not knowing what you did while you had the wolf on. Not that he particularly wanted to have the memories of eating raw chicken or whatever bones and all, but he was sure it would be worth it to know that he'd not hurt anyone, not turned anyone or worse. Killing and eating somebody, maybe even somebody you knew was just about the worse nightmare every wolf had. It was why most ran from their families, terrified that they'd accidentally hurt them. 

Sitting down in a wooded hollow, screened on all sided by tangles of vegetation, Tom stripped off his clothes and shoved them into his shopping bag. With any luck he'd not be too far away from there when the wolf left. A long naked hike back to your clothes was never fun. 

The pain was fiercer now and he laid down on the ground, eyes squeezed tight shut, hands clenched into fists. Gasping and shaking, Tom eventually cried out as his bones cracked, the transformation lengthening or shrinking them as needed, changing his shape into something no longer human. Eyes once brown and friendly became fierce and golden, teeth and jaws grew longer, and coarse, shaggy black hair sprouted across his whole body. 

Transformation complete, the werewolf rose up on his rear legs, looked at the moon with baleful eyes and howled.


	7. Chapter 7

The sun hadn't long set and a brilliant full moon hung in the dusk sky over the Elan Valley. It would be another warm night, Andy thought as he watched a barn owl fly low and silent across the fields. 

There was still no sign of Tom, but it was nothing to worry about, Andy told himself. As although he couldn't think what he could have found to keep himself occupied in Rhayader for so long, Tom was a young man and it was Saturday night. So in all likelihood he was probably in a pub, watching football on the telly there and maybe talking to the bar staff to find out what the night life was like there. 

It'd been a long time since Andy had gone on a night out. He'd never really been one for drinking alone, and with his pool of friends to invite shrunk to just about nothing and his mood prior to moving away from Cardiff at rockbottom, he'd not really felt like it either. 

With a sigh, he leant back against the wall by the door. Perhaps he should go down into Rhayader too or maybe arrange a trip to somewhere larger like Newport or Bristol and visit a few clubs. Not to Cardiff though, not for the sort of pubs and clubs he wanted to visit. He didn't feel able to run the risk of somebody he knew seeing him leave a gay club, preferable with company, and the information getting back to his mother. Certainly not since the last time, when he'd bottled out of telling her why he'd been there and instead lied to her, claiming that he'd working undercover for the police. Her response, asking him if he was going to help shut places like that down, had been enough that he'd decided not to risk going out in Cardiff like that again. 

He sighed again. He was a grown man, he thought, he should be able to tell her, he should be able to face that fact that she would say some terrible, hurtful things and most likely tell him to go away and not come back. Fancying both men and woman could be the worse of both worlds sometimes. People told you 'why make yourself a target? Just stick to woman and you'll fit in' or 'you're just confused, it's only a phase, you'll grow out of'' or 'it's god's way of testing you, you have to resist temptation and do what's right.' It didn't help that when he'd tried to talk to a guy he'd attempted to date about it he'd been told that he was in denial about being gay and he'd be happier once he stopped trying to fool himself. Either that or they assumed that you must be some kind of commitment phobic nymphomaniac. It was all bollocks. Hurtful, damaging bollocks that had made him feel like failure and a freak. 

All he wanted was to find somebody, regardless of gender, who loved him and who he loved back. Was that really so much to ask? 

Andy was still considering what to do when long, mournful howl sounded across the valley. Realistically he knew it was some slobbery great mutt one of the holiday makers or hikers had brought with them, but there was something so eerie about it, so off that it made him shiver. Giving one last look towards Tom's tent, Andy went inside and locked the door behind him. 

x-x-x

Andy heard the dog twice more during in the night, both times the distance, the eerie howl waking him from sleep. 

Remembering Tom said that he got something to do that would keep him busy on Sunday morning, Andy waited until it was nearly lunch time before making his way down to Tom's tent. 

The camp fire was burning again and as Andy approached he saw Tom lift the kettle off the fire and pour the into an old plastic half barrel, that had been stood on a tree stump. The barrel, which had been scavenged from somewhere, looked like it had once been used as a water trough for animals. And was now, after a quick clean, apparently about to be used to have a wash. 

Without his vest on, Andy could see scars on Tom's back. Four thick, raised lines starting on his shoulders and finishing near his waist. It made him think of claw marks, of creatures terrible and vicious, their form nightmarish parody of humanity. Andy shuddered at the unwanted memories and wondered whether he'd have even thought of claws if he hadn't seen the kind of damage a weevil could do. It was doubtful Tom's scars had been caused by a weevil though. His albeit limited experience of them told him people didn't walk away from a fight with one. 

The scars were old, faded silver-pink in the way that only the passage of time can manage. They matched the ones that snaked through Tom's hair. Whatever had happened it had been when Tom was smaller and younger. Not that Tom wasn't relatively small or young now, Andy thought looking at him; he was barely into his twenties and about five seven with his boots on. 

Tom was lean, but not thin. Muscles from a life lived in almost constant activity reasonably well defined on his compact frame. He was also filthy, like he'd be sleeping in a ditch or rolling about in a ploughed field, and half naked, dressed in just his cargo shorts which hung low on his hips. Low enough, Andy realised, that he couldn't be wearing any underwear. 

“You had a good night, then?” Andy asked realising he needed to say something, rather than just stare. 

“Err...yeah.” Tom gave him a rabbit caught in the headlights look before replying. “Nothin' much. I just like to...um... get back to nature. What's it they call it? Naturistism or somethin' like that.”

The world took all sorts, Andy thought, trying hard not to blush or to think about it. Which of course meant that it was suddenly all he could think about. The light tan Tom had, as well as the grime, extended below the almost indecently low waist of his shorts. The shorts were baggy, but he had little doubt that the thighs beneath would be just as lean as the rest of him. All that walking with a heavy pack, they'd be well toned. Powerful. Andy swallowed hard, mouth dry. He was not going to think it, not going to let himself imagine it. Tom had shown no signs of being even remotely interested, he'd just be setting himself up for disappointment. 

“You don't mind do yer?” Tom said, nodding towards the barrel. “Only you didn't seem to be using it for owt.”

“No. No, of course not,” Andy said relieved that Tom had either not noticed or at least was polite enough not to point out that he was doing a fine impression of the world tallest beetroot. “I just came to see if you wanted any breakfast.”

“I've already had some, thanks, but if it'll keep til lunch I'll eat it then.” Tom wandered back over to the barrel and grabbed a flannel and soap out of the water. 

“I can get us some sandwiches for lunch. I thought...” Andy hurried turned away as Tom rubbed the now soapy cloth across his chest, trails of water running down to soak into the waistband of his short, threatening to drag them lower still. “Plans...I thought I could show you the plans for what we'll be doing in the buildings...with the buildings.” 

“Sounds great.” There was another wet slopping noise as Tom dropped the soap back in the water. “D'ya want to wait while I wash up or shall I come up to the farm when I'm done?”

“Farm,” Andy said hurriedly, then still not turning round, quickly walked back to the house. “See you later.” 

 

Despite the earlier awkwardness, lunch went better than Andy had hoped for, with Tom making no mention of his although whether it was him being polite or if he genuinely hadn't noticed he couldn't say for certain. Either way Tom chose to focus on giving suggestions about the plans and about how long certain jobs would take to complete. 

“I used to read these when I was a kid,” Tom said, running his thumb along books in one of the bookcases, while Andy put the farm plans away. “Spent hours in libraries while me dad were out hu...er working.”

“All day?” Andy said before he could stop himself. “What about school?”

“I never went, did I. We moved round too much, me dad taught me all I needed to know. Any way it were only ever for a few hours an' I liked it.” Tom smiled like the memories were happy ones. “D'ya mind if I borrow this one? I promise I'll give it back.”

For a moment Andy couldn't answer, disturbed by the fact that somebody could apparently repeatedly abandon their child in a public place and nobody noticed or cared. Being home schooled wasn't common, but not unheard of. Choosing to home school and then just leaving the kid to fend for them self was negligent at best and abuse at worse. For all Tom seemed to adore his late father he didn't seem to have been a good parent as far as Andy was concerned. Not that he was about to point it out.

“I can just read it here at the house if you're worried it'll get mucked up out at the tent,” Tom said, sounding a little more unsure of himself now. 

“Borrow what want, I'm not reading any of those at the moment,” Andy said, trying and failing to convince himself that perhaps Tom had been a teenager when his dad used to leave him alone in a library.

“Thanks.” Tom picked out a copy of the first Lord of the Rings books. “I ain't read the third one, but it's been ages since I read the other ones, so I reckon I should start at the beginning again.” 

“Have you ever seen the films?” Andy asked sitting down on the sofa, glad of a safe topic of conversation. 

“Nope.” Tom flopped down on the sofa next to him, completely ignoring any concept of personal space. “So are they any good then?”

“Well they don't always exactly follow the books, but...” Andy began, launching into what his brothers had used to jokingly call the never ending film review of doom. It had been ages since he'd found someone to listen with the obvious interest that Tom had. It was, Andy thought, turning out to be a very good afternoon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idea of Tom having read and presumably enjoyed these kinds of books comes from one of the episodes where he's naming his stakes things like Conan and Beowulf and Thor. Whether his dad really left him in libraries is unknown, but they didn't seem to have books in the van, and presumably he had to do something with Tom when he was kid while he did things like break into disused buildings to see what metal he could steal and sell as scrap. 
> 
> Andy having these sorts of books is a bit of a guess, but he made a few sci-fi tv series references in the show, so for the purposes of this story he also reads that genre of books too.


	8. Chapter 8

Andy had been a bit weird when he'd found him getting cleaned up after spending the night as a wolf, Tom thought as he picked a likely looking piece of wood out of the pile he'd stacked at the side of his tent. Jumpy was probably the best description. It had almost been like he didn't want to be around him, which was odd, as most of the time since Andy seemed like he wanted to spend as much time with him as possible.

Sitting down with the piece of wood across his knees, Tom got out his penknife. It hadn't been fear, he was sure of that, so he doubted Andy had guessed he was a werewolf; he doubted normal people would even consider something like that in the first place. Since he'd been alright with him both before that and in the days that followed, Tom eventually come to the conclusion that it must have been something to do with him not be properly dressed and his scars. He didn't really think about them much himself, they been part of him since before he was old enough to remember, but people could be funny about things like that. 

He was just glad that Andy hadn't asked anything about where he'd got them, thinking up a reason why he'd been so dirty had been hard enough. Andy seemed to have accepted the idea he went out to watch wildlife without any difficulty. He just hoped that he wouldn't ask to see pictures or anything.

Things were about as good as they got, Tom thought as he striped the bark from the piece of wood and then got to work on whittling a point on one end. His dad had always said that single branch stakes were better than pieces made from bits of old plank and the like. You could use things like that if you had to, if you'd been foolish enough to go out with anything to defend yourself with, but nothing killed vamps a good, well made stake. Not that he was planning on killing any vampires any time soon.

The odd scent in Rhayader had been more unsettling in a way than the vampire. He'd lived all his life with the senses of a werewolf and travelling around a lot of the UK; there wasn't much that he didn't recognise the scent of. A single vamp wasn't much of a threat, he been able to take down more than that by himself in a single fight for years, but the unknown thing that travelled with vamps, that smelt so wrong, that he didn't know the fighting capabilities of, worried him.

He'd walked back into Rhayader late the following night and hung about to see if the vampire and its stinky friend would appear, but there had been nothing and the old scent trail was all but gone, drown out by the movement of too many people and brief spring shower. The chances were they'd probably just been travelling through and he'd never smell or see them again, but it never hurt to be prepared, Tom thought as he put the finishing touches to the stake. He'd got the start of a new life here, a normal life, and he wasn't about to let vampires ruin it or his growing friendship with Andy.

Andy had been as good as his word providing food for him and they ate together more often than not. Lighting the range had seemed to have become his job, while Andy more often than not did all the washing up, with cooking was split equally between them. It wouldn't win any prizes, with most things coming out of packets, tins and jars, but it was filling, which was just as well as fixing up the farm was hard, physical work.

They had far more enthusiasm than skill for the jobs that they were doing, but it was fun. It was also what his dad would have called an honest days work. There was something satisfying in that and in seeing the difference they were making to the buildings, how at the end of each day the place looked just that little bit better.

Putting the newly finished stake into the tent behind him, Tom turned his attention to another piece of wood. A small, twisted piece this time, which he'd been working on arriving in the Elan Valley.   
It had been a while since he'd done any carving that wasn't stakes, the wooden animals he'd made for Eve, months before having been the last of them. It felt good to get back into making them again, although tore him up inside to think too much about Eve. She'd just been a baby, she should have had her whole life ahead of her. Bloody vampires and their stupid prophecies and mind games they played on each other. Vampires had cost him his dad and George and Nina and Eve and Annie.

Hal had been the exception. Hal had been Hal first and vampire second. He'd been odd, but in a nice way. And there'd a very good reason for odd things he did, all the routines, like stacking up dominoes or doing having to listen to a particular old radio program at a certain time of day – it was try and keep himself from going out and biting people. But without Leo and Pearl, Tom had seen that Hal's control had started slipping, and he'd made it worse taking Hal to work with him in the cafe. They'd needed the money though. And then the Old Ones had turned up and everything had fallen apart again and he'd lost pretty much everybody he'd been friends with for the second time in less than a year.

Caught in memories both good and bad, Tom didn't notice Andy approaching him, until he was standing just at the edge of the hollow where he'd pitched his tent. 

“Nothin's wrong, is it?” he said, standing up suddenly, trying not altogether successfully to hide his surprise, the wooden animal he'd been working falling to the ground.. 

“No. I just wanted to see what you wanted for tea tonight.” Andy bent down and picked it up. “There's a tinned chicken and veg pie or we can try and do something with corned beef again.”

“Pie'll do,” Tom replied. “I'll sort out some bits of wood for the fire and get it lit in a while.”

“Did you make this?” Andy asked, looking with interest at the newly finished wolf.

“Yeah, I know it ain't very good,” Tom said, wishing that it had been the stake he'd been making. At least then he could have said it was just really big tent peg. Nobody would be interested in those.

“I wouldn't say that,” Andy tuned the wolf over a few times. “It's better than some of the stuff they've got in souvenir shops. There's something...I don't know...real about it.”

Part of Tom wanted to believe him, the other the part, the one that had grown wary after Kirby and Larry, refused to take him seriously. “Nah, you just saying that to be polite, aren't you?”

“Maybe a bit,” Andy admitted, handing it back to him. “It's still good though. You really did all this with just a penknife?”

“Yeah.” Tom looked at where Andy's hand still lingered against his. It was nice in a confusing kind of way.

Seeming to realise what he was doing, Andy pulled his hand back. “If you had some proper tools I think you'd be really good.”

“Me good at something?” Tom laughed, trying to pretend both to Andy and to himself that it didn't matter to him what people thought. “Now I know you're jokin'.”

“I'm not. Everybody's good at something.”

It made sense, he thought. Everybody he'd met had had something that they could do well, so he decided Andy was just telling the truth and wasn’t trying to trick him. “So what are you good at?” Tom asked, curious as to what the answer would be.

“I don’t know. I'd always thought it was being decent copper, but...” Andy's eyes met Tom's for a moment and then he sighed turned away.

The raw hurt that had been clear in eyes surprised Tom. He'd not given too much thought to why Andy was living out here or why in the week or so he'd been there he'd not mentioned anybody as a friend or talked about his past apart from to say he'd not lived on a farm before he got Cwm Elan farm. It was a little bit odd now he thought about it.

Changing the subject before Tom could ask any more questions, Andy said, “I'm going into Rhayader in a couple of days. I need to do some shopping and collecting some new parts for the old generator.” He looked at the wooden wolf again. “We can take them to a few of the souvenir and craft shops and see if they're interested in selling a few for you.”

“You're not just winding me up are yer?” Tom said, still cautious about allowing himself to get his hopes up. “'Cause I don't wanna get laughed at when they see them.”

“I wouldn't do that.” Andy looked genuinely hurt at the idea that he'd deliberately set Tom up for failure and ridicule.

Feeling suddenly self-conscious and a little bit silly, Tom mumbled, “Well I jus' wanted to make sure.”

An awkward silence followed, as Tom scuffed his shoes in the ash at the edge of the camp fire and Andy looked at everywhere where Tom wasn't. “I should go,” Andy said eventually, pointed back at the farmhouse. “Things I should do. I’ll find you some sandpaper if you like for the wood.”

“Yeah, that'd be great,” he replied, “I'll be up in a couple of hours and get the fire lit. Okay?”

“Okay, see you then.”

Tom watched him go, unable to work out if he was disappointed or relieved to be alone again. Andy confused him sometimes, just like Hal and Allison had, made him feel weird and protective, although he doubted either of them would have wanted or appreciated it if he'd told them. He knew that feelings and dealing with people definitely weren't things he was good at, but he was sure he was getting better at it. 

The idea that somebody might have used Andy like Kirby or Larry had done with himself still made Tom angry, made him want to tell them that should apologise. Andy seemed like the nicest bloke you could hope to meet, he’d given him a place to stay, a job, food, he’d always been nice to him and he didn't call him stupid when he totally missed the point or hadn't heard of something. The fact that all Andy seemed to want in return was someone to help on the farm and somebody to talk to was both somehow reassuringly normal and, now he that thought about it, a little bit sad. Andy didn't seem to have a life outside of the farm at all.

As far as Tom could tell Andy only left the farm to buy food or things needed to fix the buildings. He didn't seem to have any friends or know anybody in the village. Nor did he mention any family or have any pictures. It felt like he was deliberately cutting himself off from the world or at least from whatever his life had been before he moved to the Cwm Elan.

It was sad, Tom thought, picking up the wooden wolf. Even when it had just been him and his dad they'd still done stuff that was fun. Like sneaking each other into cinemas when they'd only got enough money for one ticket or finding work down on the coast in the summer when he’d been a kid so he'd been able to join in the free stuff that the local councils put on in the school holidays.

You needed time alone sometimes, it let you have chance to think about things, but being alone all the time was hard. But never having anybody to talk to, to ask for advice or to make you a cup of tea if you’d had a really horrible day or felt rotten, was hard. If things went really badly wrong Tom knew he could always go back to Alex and Hal, the question of whether Andy had anybody to turn to all bothered him, mainly because there was the nagging doubt that perhaps there wasn’t anybody or at least anybody he could trust. 

It was an awful situation to be in if it were true, Tom thought sadly, especially as he’d got the suspicion that Andy had only chosen to cut himself off because somebody had done something to hurt him. 

After one last look at the farm, Tom sat back down to work on another wooden animal. He’d have to be extra nice to him from now on, he decided. Now that he'd been paid he could suggest they go to the pub or see a film or something one evening. It would be nice, Tom thought happily, wood shavings starting to fall again. He just hoped Andy would say yes. 

 

TBC - Sunday 1-9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that in the previous part what Tom appeared to say was that he was a naturist ie he takes his clothes off, rather than a naturalist. This was him using the wrong word, not me forgetting what I'd written or mixing up the words myself.


	9. Chapter 9

Andy had to admit, as they left the only shop willing to take a chance on them, that the trip into Rhayader to sell Tom's carvings hadn't been quite as successful as he had hoped it would be. Ten pounds for three was hardly a good price given the amount of work that Tom must have put in on them, but the shopkeeper had said that if they sold well he'd be willing to buy some more. 

Tom had seemed happy with it, and Andy supposed that was all that mattered, although he hoped that if the carvings did prove to be a success that the shopkeeper would be willing to pay a little more for them in future. 

With the new parts for the generator collected and securely locked in the back on the landrover, Andy turned his attention to getting the shopping done. It would have to be mostly dried and canned goods again, Andy thought as he wished he'd remembered to make a shopping list, as although he hoped that the new parts would mean that the generator would be reliable enough to run a fridge, he wasn't going to risk buying one until he was sure. 

“I've bin thinking,” Tom said suddenly, stopping without warning as he did so that Andy walked into the back of him. “I wondered if you wanted to go out.” 

Andy blinked, not sure he'd heard Tom right, and even if he had whether Tom actually meant it like that. “Out?” he repeated, hoping he didn't look or sound too idiotic. 

“Yeah. I know you're kind of like my boss I 'spose, what with the farm and that, but I thought we could be like mates or something and go to the cinema or the pub.” Tom stopped and scuffed his shoe along the pavement, looking suddenly uncertain of himself. “It were only an idea. I mean if you don't want to you don't have to, I just thought....”

“Alright then,” Andy said quickly, not wanting Tom to think that he didn't want t spend time with him. It was still hard not to sound disappointed though. “Cinema it is.” 

There hadn't been much on at the cinema in the end, the choice limited to the latest Bond film and romantic comedy, but two over priced tickets, two even more overpriced tubs of popcorn and one rather better than he'd expected it to be Bond film later, Andy had to admit it was shaping up to be a very good evening. Leaving the cinema, he gave a quick glance at Tom who was walking along beside him, still eating popcorn and talking enthusiastically about the film. Tom wasn't the sort of guy he'd have given a second glance at in a club, too young, too scruffy, too short. It made him wonder if he'd missed out on talking to or more with some really great guys. 

“So what do you wanna do now?” Tom said between mouthfuls. “D'ya want to get somethin' proper to eat?”

It really was starting to feel like the most date like non-date that he'd been on, and Andy smiled as he replied, “Alright, what sort of thing were you thinking?”

“I don't mind, nothin' too fancy though.”

Andy doubted there was anything that would really qualify as fancy in Rhayader, but he understood what Tom meant. Even dressed in what was most likely he least shabby set of clothes Tom still looked scruffy. The coat was the worst of it, an ancient waxed jacket that had probably once, about twenty years ago, been very nice, now it was definitely past its best. Andy thought for a moment before replying, “There's a place a couple of streets over that seems to mostly cater for hikers, they probably won't mind us.” 

His mouth full of popcorn again, Tom gave him a thumbs up rather than an actual reply. 

Rhayader was, if possible, even quieter in the evening than during the day so the shouting match that was going on in front the pub a little way up the road ahead of them was rather noticeable.  
Two women in their late teens or early twenties and three lads of about the same age where standing outside the door engaged in what politely would have been called an verbal altercation on a report form were he still in the police, but was actually a screaming argument where every other word seemed to be a profanity. 

It didn't appear to be the progress of kicking off into anything worse than hurt feelings for all involved in it, so Andy decided crossing the road to avoid having to squeeze past them on the narrow pavement was the best plan. 

They'd just crossed the road when Tom held out his nearly empty popcorn box to him. “Could you hold this a minute?” 

“Sure,” Andy replied, assuming Tom needed to retie the laces on his trainers. Tom however crossed back over the road and and walked quickly over to the arguing youths before Andy had a chance to ask him what he was doing. 

“You shouldn't talk to a lady like that,” Tom said walking up to the largest and loudest of the men and tapping him on the shoulder. “And swearing like that ain't half as clever or hard as you think it is. It just makes you look stupid.” 

“Piss off,” he slurred, turning to face Tom as he did. “What's it matter you how I talk to her, she a lying, cheating bi-”

“I said you shouldn't talk them like that, it's not nice,” Tom interrupted as he moved between the man and the two women, who were staring at him in confusion. 

“An' I said I do what I fucking well like.” He looked at his two friends, before swinging his fist at Tom. “Come on, lets teach this little wanker a lesson.” 

Tom ducked the punch easily, then dropping into a crouch kicked one leg out and tripped one of them, before landing a solid punch to the stomach on the guy who'd tried to hit him. 

It wasn't just luck, Andy could see that. There was a well practised ease that showed Tom knew exactly what he was doing. He was just as much in his element here as he was in the woods, and Andy couldn't help but wonder just what sort of life Tom had been used to living where he was so familiar with fighting that nearly being punched in the face by a complete stranger didn't even give him pause. 

The third guy, the smallest of the three, seeing his chance while Tom was distracted with the other two, smacked him across the face, twice hard and in quick succession. The women gave each other a worried look and ducked back inside the pub, where some of the locals were now starting to stare out of the window at the disturbance outside. 

“Hey, leave him alone!” Andy called out, dropping the box of popcorn and dashing back across the road, as Tom, who'd barely flinched at either of the blows, retaliated by kneeing the guy who'd punched him in the crotch. Seeing Andy about to join him and their advantage in numbers diminishing, they stepped back, pulling their now red faced and uncomfortable friend with them.

“You had enough?” Tom said, wiping blood from his cut lip with his hand. “'Cause you might think you're clever knowin' all them rude words, but you're right rubbish at fightin'”

The door to the pub opened and a man who Andy suspected what the owner, leant out and yelled,  
“You clear off the bloody lot of you or all call the police, you see if I don't!” 

“This place is a shit hole anyway,” the guy Tom had tripped up spat back at the landlord, before making an obscene gesture at them. “Come on we can find somewhere better than this.” 

“Do you reckon I should go in and see if they're alright?” Tom said looking at the pub, trying to see to see if the young women were still inside, now that they were alone. 

“No,” Andy said, putting a hand on Tom's shoulder, feeling rather guilty at the fact that it was more for his own benefit than Tom's. It felt like the whole evening had been ruined, even though Tom didn't seem to be upset at all. He'd broken up fights far worse than this back when he'd been in uniform and thought nothing of it, now he just felt cold and sick and shivery.“I think we should go. They can always get a taxi home or phone for their parents if to they don't want to walk.” 

“Yer probably right,” Tom said, not sounding totally convinced. He looked at Andy, then said, “Are you okay? They didn't hit you or owt did they?”

“No. Why?” Andy replied distracted by the rapidly darkening bruise on Tom's cheek. The fear that it could have been worse filling his mind far more than the relief the relief that it it hadn't been. 

“It's just your hand is shaking right bad.” He reached up and put his own on it. “I thought you said you used to be police? That can't have bin worse than the sort of stuff they have to deal with.”

“There's a reason why I left,” Andy said, pulling his hand away, knowing he wasn't in any state to talk about any part of what happened rationally right now. The months of talking behind his back and snide comments that he was meant to hear from colleagues who he'd believed were his friends following what had happened on the Cromwell Estate had destroyed so much of his confidence, that combined with everything else, he still wasn't sure how he'd managed to avoid having a complete breakdown under the pressure. Perhaps if he'd not been thrown on the scrap heap he would have.

Tom looked like he was about to say something and then stopped like he'd thought better of it. He poked at the cut on his cheek, and then said, “I don't 'spose you still wanna go to the pub, do you?”

Andy shook his head. Right now he wanted nothing more than to get back to the farm, lock the door behind him and pretend the world outside didn't exist. He looked at Tom's barely disguised disappointment and realised that maybe it wasn't the whole world he wanted to shut out. Tom who seemed to care about him, who wanted to be his friend, would be welcome company. “How about we get some beer and a takeaway and have it back at the farm?” 

“Sounds like a plan.” Tom smiled, happy again. “Do you wanna get pizza?” 

To Andy's relief the takeaway pizza place had been quiet and the person behind the counter had carefully avoid making any mention of the fact Tom had obviously been in a very recent fight. While at the off license Tom had decided to wait outside, saying that he didn't fancy getting asked for ID as he didn't have any. 

Still holding the pizza boxes, Tom sat on the low wall at the edge of the car park underneath a streetlight as Andy unlocked the landrover and put in the bag from the off license in the back. 

Turning back to him, Andy could see that a bruise was already starting to form on Tom's cheek. The cut was small though, just a couple of centimetres break in the skin. He doubted it would leave much of a mark once it healed. Without thinking he reached out to touch it, wanting to reassure himself that he was right, that it was nothing. 

“It's alright,” Tom said taking hold of his hand and gently, but firmly lowering it. “I've had worse.” 

“The scars?” Andy asked carefully, uncertain if he should really mention them, even though Tom had seemed completely at ease with him seeing them a few days earlier. 

“No, well yeah, but I weren't meaning them.” Tom stood up, releasing Andy's hand as he did, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. “Look I've been in enough fights to know how to handle myself, okay. So you shouldn't worry about me.”

Too late for that, Andy thought, as he watched him climb into the landrover. Far, far too late.

 

Driving up the narrow, rutted track to the farm was bad enough in the daylight, in the dark and with the ancient landrover's less than bright headlight, it did little help calm Andy's nerves and he was relieved to park it up outside the farmhouse without having scraped it along a wall or tipped it into a ditch. 

A couple of hours later, with the beer drunk and the pizza eaten, the cold, hard knot in his chest seemed to have finally eased, Tom's warm, reassuring presence at his side finally helping him relax.  
Tom who was funny, kind, brave, modest and, Andy thought sadly, apparently not interested in him as anything other than a friend. And, he noticed with a smile, who'd asleep against his shoulder and was snoring quietly, his can of beer still held loosely in one hand. 

There was no sense in waking him, and after the fight this evening Andy knew he'd sleep better knowing that Tom was safe, so after putting a blanket over him, he turned out the light and went to bed.


	10. Chapter 10

Waking up in a house was different from waking up outside or even in a tent. The light was different, muted or extinguished through the curtains and the smells were different too, wet earth and woodlands replaced by food and the scent of human life. You probably had to be a werewolf to appreciate the last one, Tom thought, lying on the sofa and looking up at the ancient wooden beams running across the ceiling. Houses were, unless you were really unlucky, also a lot less damp and itchy than the woods. 

It was the first time he'd slept inside since leaving Honolulu Heights. He looked at the clock on the wall, it was still early, but he knew that back in Barry Island, Hal would already be up and, if he was sticking to his routine, he'd be making toast which had to be cut into precise triangles and listening to Radio 4. Alex would probably be watching the telly or reading a magazine. He felt sorry for Alex, being a ghost had to harder than being a wolf or vampire. His was only one night a month and vampires had choice whether or not to bite somebody, even if it wasn't an easy choice. She couldn't be seen by normal humans, couldn't eat or drink or sleep, and it would only end when she moved on to whatever was on the otherside, and even with that she didn't get a choice about when it would happen. Nope, given a choice between being a werewolf, a vampire and a ghost, Tom thought, he'd pick werewolf every time. Obviously if normal human was an option he'd go for that. 

Next time they were in Rhayader he'd have to get a postcard to send them and let them know where he was and that he was alright, something funny. It wasn't like he could phone, he thought, getting up and wandering over to the door. He could try, but as ghosts and vamps didn't show up on things like photos, videos or answering machines, he wasn't all that sure he'd be able to hear them on the phone. It wasn't something that had ever come up before, although after living together for a few months he wasn't sure why.

The drizzly grey rain falling across the valley helped wake him up and clear his head as he made the short trip to and from the outside toilet. Then after a quick wash using the old water pump at the side of the farm yard, Tom went back inside. 

Andy still wasn't up, so trying to make as little noise as possible he lit the fire in the range and put on the kettle and a pot of porridge, before getting a book and heading back to the sofa. 

The book was rather more sci-fi than he generally read and he soon found his mind wandering, thinking about what had happened the previous night. The fight outside the pub hadn't been much, the men had more than a little drunk. He hope that the women were alright. They'd certainly been holding their own in the argument beforehand, but he'd sill not felt able to just walk by without saying anything. He knew people saw him as old fashioned regards swearing and things, but that was how his dad had taught him to be. Always be polite, give up your seat or open a door for a lady or old person, unless they were a vampire in which has just stake them before they had a chance to rip your throat out or stab you. 

The fight seemed to have shaken Andy more than Tom thought it should, given that he'd not done anything other than watch. It was odd, Tom thought as he got the now hot kettle off the range and made himself some tea. It had been at least a couple hours after the fight and with a few beers in him that he'd had final felt him stop shaking. Part of him wanted to put it down to Andy being a normal human, that they weren't used to the everyday violence that seemed to come with being not quite human. 

That didn't make sense though, Andy had been in the police, a little scuffle like that surely would have just been part of normal policing on a Friday or Saturday night if were he'd been stationed had been like just about any town Tom had been to. He had to have seen worse than that. He glanced towards the bedroom door a frown on his face. He liked Andy and because of that he worried about him. 

Retreating back to the sofa again, this time with his tea, he wondered what it was that had happened to Andy to make him leave the police force. Being a police officer was one of those jobs that people tended to have until they retired and there was no way that Andy was that old. So that must have meant he'd quit or been sacked over something. He really couldn't see anybody sacking him, he was too nice. So that only really left him having quit. 

He looked back at the bedroom door again. Andy didn't seem like the kind of person who quit easily. If he had been he wouldn't have taken on a place that needed so much work. Maybe something really, really awful had happened to him, he thought with a sinking feeling, and that was why he'd been so shaken up by the fight. What if somebody had died? He knew how much losing somebody could hurt, how the guilt could eat you up, unless you found a way to think about something else. He'd been lucky, after losing his dad he'd had George and Nina, and after them Annie and Eve, and then Hal and Alex. He'd never had to really be properly alone, unless he'd wanted to be. 

Losing people took everybody differently though, he remembered George both before and after Nina's death, how there had in the end been nothing left but overwhelming grief and guilt, that none of them could ease. The idea that Andy could have suffered like that, maybe alone, with nobody to turn to, upset him more than he could say. 

He was still worrying about it when Andy finally emerged from his bedroom, looking tired and a little bleary eyed. Whether it was because he was a bit hungover, hadn't slept well or a combination of the two Tom wasn't sure. Getting up, he said, "Kettle ain't long boiled, do you want a cuppa." 

"Thanks," Andy said gratefully, sitting down heavily on the sofa. "How's your face this morning?"

"It's fine. It don't hurt," Tom said, dumping a teabag in a mug pouring and hot water on it. When you went through the bone breaking agony of a werewolf transformation every four weeks the occasional bump or bruise pretty much stopped registering. “So what we doin' today?”

Andy leant back on the sofa and closed his eyes.“I should probably take a look at the other barn, see whether it'll be easier to fix it or knock it down and start again.”

“I can take a look with you, if you want,” Tom said handing over the mug of tea and then sitting down next to him. 

 

Later that morning, with Andy looking rather better after more tea and some of the just about edible porridge, they went to look at the other outbuilding. 

Situated on the opposite side of the farmhouse from the barn which Andy had been working on when Tom first arrived at Cwm Elan farm, it was in a far worse state of repair. Although clearly newer in places than the barn the corrugated metal roof was rusted through in numerous places and had fallen in at one end where the wall had partially collapsed, while the whole of the structure was over run with waist high weeds. 

“So what was this place for?” Tom said, climbing over the rubble in the collapsed corner towards where some copper piping was sticking out of the floor. 

“According to the farm records,” Andy said carefully picking his way through the waist high weeds and tumbles of stone to join him. “This was used for milking cows during the forties, apparently they made a lot of the sheep farms go over to cows during the war so there was enough milk. I think they gave up on cows in the fifties. I suppose Edith must have used it for storage for a while, but I guess she just let it fall into this state when the farm started getting too much for her.” 

“Who's Edith?” Tom asked, looking at the piping. It seemed to run under the floor of the building and if it was all intact it could be worth quite a bit. It was the sort of scrap haul that used to have his dad smiling and planning what they were going to do with the money. 

“She's my aunt,” he replied distractedly, mind clearly else where again.

“She must have liked you a lot to leave you a place like this.” Tom stood back up. He knew that they'd be able to strip the copper out over the course of a few days if they worked hard on it. The corrugated metal roof was a lost cause, it was so rusted that he knew that no scrap dealer would give you anything for it. The rest of the building probably could be fixed up, but it would be a lot of work, far more than with the barn or the walls and paths around the farmyard. 

“She hardly knew me,”Andy said slowly shaking his head. “She just wanted the farm to stay in the family, and I was the only one who wanted it. It came at the right time, if hadn't...” He shrugged and shoved his hands into his pockets before turning away.

“There's a fair bit of copper piping in here, I 'spose it must've bin from the milking machines,” Tom said, wanting to distract him, certain now that Andy's reason for choosing to live out in the arse end of nowhere was because something horrible had happened. “I reckon you could sell it for a right tidy bit of cash if you wanted to.” 

There's a brief pause as Andy sought to push down whatever it was that had been trying to consume him. “You think so?” 

“Yeah. Me and me dad used to do a fair bit of scrap collecting,” Tom said hoping that it wasn't so vague that Andy would ask any more questions about just where they got their scrap from. He doubted an ex-policeman would hold with breaking into old factories and nicking stuff, even if nobody had used the place for years. “Copper is about three pound fifty a kilo, so I reckon there's gotta at least fifty quids worth in here, might be more. It'll be a lot of work though, getting it all out and fixing the place up.” 

If Andy had any questions about just where him and his dad used to get their scrap he chose not to voice them. Instead he smiled and said, “I guess you'll working in here a bit longer than I first planned. Well if you want to.”

“Course I want to,” Tom said quickly. In the short time he'd been at Cwm Elan farm it had rapidly started to feel like home, a place he could see himself in months or even years to come. It was stupid to think like that, he knew, once the farm was fixed up he'd have to be off. Even with everything going well it would be early autumn before the place ready for campers, and generally nobody much went camping that late in the year, so it wasn't like Andy would need him to help with guests. 

Looking and sounding happier than he had since before the fight, Andy said, “Right then, I think I'd better get on with fixing the generator and finally get round to ordering a fridge. We can make a start on this tomorrow.”


	11. Chapter 11

Looking out the living room window he could see Tom already hard at work on the old milking shed, stripping off the rusted metal roof. Tom confused him in the nicest possible ways. They spent most of their time together, working or talking or just sitting around, Tom reading or carving, since the shop had agree to buy ten more wooden animals from him, and himself reading or playing a game on his laptop now that they had the generator working reliably enough that he had somewhere to plug it into to charge.

Ever since the fight in Rhayader Tom had made a point of asking if there was anything he wanted, if he needed any help with anything, sought out his opinion on a variety of things and seemed genuinely interested in whatever he had to say. He'd wondered at first if Tom had been trying very subtly to flirt with him, but Tom didn't seem to do subtle in anything else. In fact he'd been nothing but open and painfully honest with him on just about everything apart from a few details about his past which Andy suspected he held back as they weren't entirely legal and were upsetting for him to remember. Honestly it had been a relief to have somebody like that around to remind him that not everybody was talking about him behind his back.

Andy was still looking out the window wondering if he was totally miss reading the situation with Tom when his phone rang. Reluctantly he turned away from the window, hoping it wasn't the solar panel fitters trying to sell him a load of expensive extras or a customer service survey follow up call or them trying to sell him optional extras, he picked up his mobile. “Andy Davidson speaking.”

“Hiya, how are things going?”

“Gwen?” Andy didn't bother trying to hide his surprise. Not that he wasn't happy to hear from her, but since joining Torchwood Gwen really didn't do social calls. “Things are going okay. Better than they had been in ages really. Has something happened?”

“I’m fine. So are Rhys and Ceri.”

He could hear the ‘but’ in her voice and wondered if the ‘I know it’s all going to hell, but I’m still putting a brave face on it’ smile was there too. He hoped not, they'd all had too much to put up with lately. “Something has happened though, hasn't it?” he asked, feeling his good mood slipping away, nerves starting to claw at him.

There was a pause and then Gwen said, “You remember the Nikki and Jonah Bevan case, don’t you?”

Andy took shaky breath. Trying to convince himself and Gwen that he really wasn't starting to freak out about what she was going to say, he was rather pleased with himself when he managed a rather jokey,“I’m hardly likely to forget. You left me looking like a right tit at the dock, going off in the boat like that, you know.”

“Sorry about that, I didn't want you to get mixed up in it. Not before I knew what was out there. The things I seen...” she trailed off.

“So what's happened?” Andy asked, hating how much Torchwood had taken from her, what it did to everybody who got too close. Certain now that it wasn't good news, he added, “They found him didn't they?”

After this length of time there was almost no chance Jonah would have been found alive. The circumstances of his disappearance had meant that an accident was highly unlikely. The chances where that Cardiff CID would now be gearing up for a murder investigation. He’d been one of the original investigating officers and he'd spent a good bit of his own off duty time helping Nikki Bevan organise her missing persons support group. They’d definitely want to talk to him, ask him why he’d failed. He sat down feeling lightheaded and sick. He couldn’t do it. Couldn’t face Nikki Bevan and know he’d failed her.

“Andy? Are you still there?”

“Yes,” he said weakly, fighting the urge to just switch off the phone. Had Gwen said anything else? He wasn't sure. “They've finally found him then?” he asked hoping he wasn't asking something she'd just told him.

“They've not found him. I mean Nikki had known where he was since just after I went out to Flat Holm. There a place out there, sort of like a hospital I suppose, for people who've seen things...Torchwood things.”

“So why are you telling me this now?” It's more hurt and angry than he intended it to be, as he knew that Gwen would only have called him if she'd thought it was the right thing to do. 

“Don't be like that, I just didn't want you hearing it on the news or oh I don't know somewhere, and thinking I didn't care enough to tell you. So I thought I should do it, that I should be the one to tell you.”

Andy swallowed hard. Gwen sounded upset and that was never a good sign. “It's bad isn't it?”

“They’re dead,” Gwen said quietly. “I had to go and identify them this morning.”

“Them? Jonah and who…oh hell.” There was a rushing noise in his ears Andy knew he was missing most of what Gwen was saying. Cliff and accident filtered though, but little else. 

“…cleared it so they won’t contact you. I didn't know you were still off until I asked if they'd told you. Seems like ages since I last saw you, when are you going to be back in Cardiff?”

“I’m not,” Andy said faintly, glad he was sitting down. “I sold my flat. I left. I'm not coming back.”

“You've transferred?” Gwen asked, surprised. “I hope it's somewhere nice and they've pushed you out to some back office pushing paper.”

“I've left the police. I had the choice between taking medical retirement or facing prosecution, what do you think I picked?” Andy said, the helpless anger that he felt at the time he found not having eased in the long months since. Even if the thought of putting on his uniform had, by the end of his service, made him come out in cold sweat, he'd still wished that leaving been his choice and on his terms, not something he'd been bullied and pushed into it.

“Bloody hell, I had no idea. Why didn't you call me? I would have set them straight. You were a good copper, you cared about people, you were one of the best of us. Do you want me to see if I can get them to reconsider?” Gwen said, sounding determined. “Torchwood’s got a bit of leverage again now. Apparently the Queen - the actual Queen, Andy, had a word with them, the government, privately like. She didn't take too kindly to them blowing up crown property apparently.”

“Don’t ask. Please don’t ask them.” Andy closed his eyes, palms slick with sweat, starting to shake. “I couldn't tell you then, you only just had a baby. But I can’t go back there. Not back to everybody talking about me behind my back, waiting for me freak out and cock it all up again. Gwen, just please leave it alone.”

“Hey, slow down a minute, you sound awful. Are you going to be alright?” Gwen sounding really worried for him. “Do you want me to come over? I can drop Ceri at my mam’s…Just tell me where you're living now.”

“No, don't.” He wanted nothing more than to retreat somewhere nobody could see him or could talk to him and where he didn't have to worry about what anyone thought about him doing that. “I’ll be alright. I’ve got to go. I’m getting some solar panels delivered soon.” It’s a lie, but two weeks is close enough that it doesn’t feel like too much of one given the circumstances.

Gwen didn't sound that convinced and asked, “Have you got anybody there with you? I wish I hadn't told you any of this now. You really don't sound like you should be on your own at the minute.” 

“I'm not, there's Tom. He’s working with me to fix up the place. I'll be alright.” He nodded, trying to convince himself that it was the truth. “Really, I'll be alright, it was just a bit of shock. I really like her.”

“Well if you’re sure,” Gwen said sounding less than happy with it. “Look, can I call you back later, we could catch up about other stuff. I'd be nice to talk again.”

She was lonely, he could tell, mixing having a young baby, a husband who spent much of the time driving long distance lorries and a job a isolating as Torchwood had to be hard. But as much as he wanted to help her didn't feel able to deal with anybody else's problems at the moment, even if they were a friend. “I can't, I'm going out. I'll call you sometime, in a few days maybe. Bye.”

Ending the call before Gwen could say anything else, he sat at the table staring blankly at the phone. Why had he said he'd call? He didn't want to. He didn't want to do anything or talk to anyone. The mobile bleeped with an incoming text and he glared at it, willing it to go away, to leave him alone. The phone beeped again, insistent to be answered, and he picked it up, holding it for a moment before throwing it as hard as he could at the wall.

He couldn't really have picked a worse time as just as the phone shattered, Tom walked in. He looked at the bits of broken mobile and said, “I take it the call to them solar power blokes didn't go right good then?” 

“What! No, that went okay, it's all good,” Andy said distractedly, hoping that Tom would believe it and leave him alone. 

“Yer shaking again,” Tom said sounding worried as he moved closer. “This ain't about the fight is it? I ain't in trouble am I?” 

Gripping the edge of the table until his knuckles turned white, Andy said, “No, nothing like that. It was just...er, just someone I used to know. Someone from my old job. They'd just solved an case we'd worked. I'm fine really.”

“But that's good news ain't it?” Tom put a hand on his shoulder. “So why are yer so upset? It ain't 'cause it's to do with why you left is it?”

“I didn't leave,” Andy said bitterly. What was it with people not wanting to leave him alone today? “They pushed me out. Not mentally fit for the role, a danger to my colleagues and the public apparently.”

“That's rubbish. You're alright?” Tom gave his shoulder a squeeze. “You seem alright to me.”

Andy closed his eyes. He couldn't let himself take any comfort now or he was going break. What he needed, he told himself, was to be left alone until he didn't feel like running out the door and never stopping. “Just leave it, you wouldn't understand.”

“I won't if you don't tell me, will I?” Tom said, kindly. “So why don't you give it a try. I might even be able to help.” 

“I said leave it! I've not pestered you about your weird life, have I?” Andy snapped, pushing Tom's hand from his shoulder. “I only hired you because I felt sorry for you.”

The look of hurt and confusion in Tom's eyes made him think of the sad-eyed, abandoned puppies that the RSPCA used for their 'A dog is for life' ads. He'd wanted Tom give him some space, but he'd gone too far. “Tom, I didn't...”

“Yes, yer did.” Tom turned away and headed for the door. “I'll be out in the barn if you need me. Or I can jus' go if yer want.”

“Of course I don't.”

“Not while you can still use me, right?” Tom opened the door. “Yer jus' like the rest,” he said, sounding more hurt and disappointed than angry, before slamming the door shut behind him. 

“Tom, I'm sorry,” Andy said quietly to the now empty room. Then, dispensing with any pretence of holding it together, he buried his head in his hands and wept. 

 

x0x0x0x

 

The whole atmosphere on the farm had changed after that, and while Tom had stayed and worked without complaint, it had also been without conversation unless it was of the ‘what needs to be done now’ variety. He didn't seem to be angry, he was still polite to him, but there wasn’t anything else any more, Andy thought as he watched him work, and it hurt. He’d driven a wedge between them and ruined whatever it was that had been slowly developing, whether it had been friendship or maybe the beginnings of something more, because he was a colossal fuck up and somebody nobody in their right mind would want to be friends with. 

Objectively he knew that it wasn't true, once he'd had a lot of friends, people he went to the pub with or the rugby, people who invited to him to house warming parties and weddings. Were they really? The treacherous thought followed with wearying regularity. They dropped you soon enough when they realised that you wasn't any use to them, that you was too odd, that you weren't any use to anybody any more. No, he'd only been their friend when he'd been good old Andy who'd volunteer to cover the crappiest shifts because he wanted to be nice to them, as soon as he was able to then all turned their backs. 

There was nothing left in his life apart from renovating the farm, Andy thought bitterly as set to work on removing more of the copper from milking shed, and even that held little appeal now. Something that had felt so promising, like he was building a better future when Tom was speaking to him now felt like a life sapping chore. Once it was fixed up, he told himself, he'd sell it and leave. He didn't know or care where, he just needed to get away from the site of another one of his failures. 

Jamming the bar into the gap between the pipe and the wall, Andy tried to copy what Tom was doing at the far end of the milking shed. When pulling the bar towards himself failed to have any affect, and determined not to be beaten by a lump of metal, he moved round to the other side of the now wedged pry bar and tried pushing it away from himself instead.

There was a creak and for a single, horrible moment Andy thought that perhaps he was about to bring the entire wall tumbling down on top of himself, then a piece of the stonework shattered. The pipe however remained in place and the pry bar sprung back out of his hands. There was no time to avoid it and it hit him hard across the bottom of his chest. With a gasp Andy staggered back, pain radiating out from where it had struck. 

Stumbling over to where they'd let a pile of sacks of sand and cement a few days earlier, his legs feeling wobbly with fright, Andy sat down heavily and tired to breathe. It hurt to sit upright so Andy leant forwards, trying to take shallow breaths as that seemed to be less painful, but far worse at lessening the spiralling panic fast over taking him. 

“What you done now?” Tom asked, failing entirely not to look like he was worried as hell, as he hurried over to him. Crouching down in front of Andy, he said, “You're walking disaster area you.” 

Wrapping an arm around him aching ribs, Andy let his head fall against Tom's shoulder. “I don't know, but it really hurts.” 

 

TBC Wednesday 11/9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that this didn't appear to be anti Gwen because she gave Andy the bad news. This wasn't my intention. She wasn't trying to be horrible to him and she really does care about him. She didn't know how bad it had been for him as he'd not told her and she'd not been in a situation where she'd have found out. 
> 
> As this doesn't fit with Miracle Day in any way I decided to give Gwen's daughter a different name to reflect that. Putting a spoiler (even a minor one) in for a different series that wasn't otherwise referenced didn't seem fair on the readers.


	12. Chapter 12

The dull, meaty thud of something heavy hitting flesh was unmistakeable and Tom dropped what he was doing and spun round half expecting to find them under attack. Seeing no threat, but Andy in obvious pain, he ran over to him, any annoyance he'd felt towards him temporarily forgotten. 

“What you done now?” Tom asked, crouching down in front of him as he tried to get a better look at why he was hunched over. He couldn't see any obvious injury and he couldn't smell any blood, so that had to be a good sign, Tom decided. “You're walking disaster area you.” 

“I don't know, but it really hurts,” Andy said, leaning against him. 

"What d'ya mean you don't know?" Tom asked, worried now that he was missing something. "Is it you don't know how you got hurt or you don't know where or you don't know how bad?"

Andy took a moment to answer, then sounding surprised and shocked, said, "The bar I was using, it just sprung back and hit me.” 

It fitted with what he'd heard and how Andy was holding his ribs. Hoping that what he'd find wouldn't be too bad, Tom said, “Come on, then. You'd better let me have a look.” 

Andy nodded and then flinched, a hiss of pain escaping him as Tom carefully lifted up the front of his t-shirt. There was a long, raised bruise rapidly starting to form across Andy's ribs. Nothing seemed to be pushed out of shape or bulging out like blood was filling up somewhere it shouldn't be. He knew from past experience that it would hurt like hell for a while, every breath making the bruises ache. Andy was going to be sore for a good few of weeks. 

“Stop it!” Andy gasped and pushed Tom's hand away before he could touch the bruise. “What if they're broken? You could poke a hole in something.” 

“Just try an' calm down, will you? I'm pretty sure they're jus' bruised,” Tom said as he pulled the t-shirt back down, knowing that the way Andy was shivering, his breathing shallow and panicked would only be making him feel worse. “I know it hurts a bit...”

“More than a bit,” Andy snapped, although he gratefully leant forwards against Tom again, letting him support him. 

Tom frowned. His dad had said the wolf made you stronger, perhaps he was expecting too much of Andy, he thought as he felt him shivering against him, he was just an ordinary bloke after all. Maybe normal humans were just a bit more breakable. Maybe it would be best to get him to a doctor, even if was just so he'd could be told it was really nasty bruising by somebody qualified. He was fairly sure that a doctor wouldn't come out to the farm for bruised ribs, but as Andy didn't seem to be willing to take his word for it, he asked “Do you trust me to drive the land rover?” 

Andy sounded decidedly worried at the idea and there was definitely scepticism beneath the pain as he said, “Do you even have a driving licence?” 

“I got a provisional one. Me dad taught me a little bit and Hal let me have a go with his car a few times.” They'd been good times, Tom thought, trying not to let those thoughts turn to how those times would never come again. “I ain't right good, but I can do it without crashing it, the roads round here ain't that busy and I don't 'spose I'd have to drive it that far any way.” 

Andy looked like he was about to refuse when he coughed, doubling over as it put extra strain on his ribs, “Alright. Just be careful.”

 

The walk in medical centre in Rhayader, which Andy had decided was the closest option, was busier that Tom had thought it would be and the smell of antiseptic and cleaning products he found rather unpleasant. But given how Andy had spent the short journey there hunched up in the front seat, grunts of pain escaping him as the land rover had jolted and rolled down the rutted farm track out to the main road, he was more than willing to put up with the hospital smells. 

Walk in apparently didn't mean get seen straight away, Tom rapidly found out. Rather it just meant that if you weren't registered with a GP or your usual doctor couldn't give you an appointment any time soon you could turn up at the walk in centre and wait to be seen. Things would have been so much easier if George and Nina had been alive, Tom thought glumly. Knowing a hospital porter and a doctor who'd been willing to sneak you in a get you treated quickly had been very useful on the occasions him or his dad had needed it.

Eventually Andy's name was called, and Tom walked with him to the door the receptionist had pointed to. “It'll be be fine, you know,” he said, feeling rather anxious now that Andy was going to be out of his sight. 

Loitering around in the corridor, Tom tried to pass the time looking at shiny posters of people who all seemed to be smiling far too much considering the information was things like flu injections or getting checked various diseases. He was wondering whether to go back to the waiting room and ask how long he could expect to be waiting for Andy and if it was worth nipping out and finding something to eat when Andy walked slowly out of the room, one arm still curled about his ribs.

“That were quick,” Tom said, looking him over, trying to see if anything had been done. Quick had to be good, didn't it? Unless the doctor had decided to send him off to hospital in which case it definitely wasn't. “So what'd they say?” 

“Definitely bruised, possibly a fracture or two, but apparently the treatment the same either way” Andy said leaning on him as they made their way back to the waiting room. “Basically pick up your prescription on the way out, then go home and rest, and only come back here if it turns serious.” 

“Yer in still in pain, that's serious to me,” Tom said, holding the door open for him. “So what you 'sposed to do now?”

With one arm still held around his ribs, Andy leant awkwardly by the counter. “Just what the doctor said I guess, take some painkillers, get plenty of rest and put some ice on it if it hurts.” 

It sounded like good solid advice, Tom thought, but there was something missing as far as he was concerned. “My dad always reckoned a good tight bandaged were the best thing.”

“Apparently that's considered a bad idea these days,” Andy said as he waited for the receptionist to find the prescription. “And I've got to take at least ten deep breaths each hour while I'm awake, even if it hurts, to help prevent chest infections. Apparently I'll be fine in three to six weeks.”

With the prescription finally collected, Tom walked Andy back to the land rover, and helped him get in. “Right then, we're stoppin' at the chemist to pick these up and then we'll head back,” Tom said, looking at how Andy was sat hunched and miserable in the passenger seat. He wished there was more he could do to help, as though Andy had been horrible to him before, he hated knowing that he was in pain. Caring about somebody even when they had been a bit of a knob about things meant that he was the better person in this, Tom decided. Or at least that's what Annie used to tell him when he'd being dealing with Hal in his early days at Honolulu Heights.

The trip to the chemist had thankfully been much swifter than the walk in centre, and after making sure Andy took one of the tablets, Tom had set off back to the farm. Andy had been very quite on the drive, although whether it was because he was because he was feeling too uncomfortable to talk, he didn't want to distract him while driving or something else, Tom didn't know. Whichever it was he was relieved when they pulled into the farmyard.

“I'm sorry, you know,” Andy said as Tom helped him get settled on the sofa. 

“Everyone has accidents, that's why there called accidents because you don't do them on purpose,” Tom said, knowing it had sounded much better in his head. A lot of the things he said sounded better there, he thought glumly, wishing he could sound kind and funny like Annie or clever like Hal. 

“I meant about what I said the other day,” Andy said quietly. “About why I gave you a job.” 

“Oh, that.” It still hurt, Tom didn't really want to pretend otherwise, but forgive and forget was starting to seem a sensible option given that he would probably have to spend a fair bit of time with Andy at least until he was feeling better. It would be the adult thing to do, he told himself. At the very least he should hear him out and find out why he'd been so horrible when it seemed to go against everything else Tom had come to know and like about him.

“I didn't mean it, not like that. I'd just had some bad news and I wanted to be on my own and I wanted to...I couldn't...” Andy's voice cracked and he hunched over. “I can't cope with it, and I know it's pathetic, but there it is. And I'm so so sorry I said it to you, because you've been nothing but good to me, and I really don't deserve it.” 

“Hey, it's okay,” Tom said sitting down next to him. He'd not really expected an apology or for Andy to look so absolutely wrecked about it. “I had this friend once, well two of them really, and they both said some pretty awful things after some bad stuff happened. Only I know they didn't mean it really and I guess this is kinda the same, ain't it? So it weren't like it were properly your fault in a way and I should've realised that you were so sad and done something' to help. So maybe it should be me sayin' sorry an'... you're crying, ain't you?” 

Andy made a wet, sniffing noise and nodded. 

Making Andy cry really hadn't been his intention, it made him feel awkward and awful that he'd not realised just how upset Andy had been. “'m sorry, don't cry, it'll be alright, really. We've both been right idiots about this, ain't we?” he said, only just stopping himself from trying to give Andy a hug, that would have certainly hurt more than helped. “I had this other friend, Annie, she reckoned as that was the problem with blokes, well most of them any way, that that we never talk about stuff, so we get it all wrong all the time. I'm beginning to think she were right.” 

Andy managed a shaky laugh and then groaned. “Oh, not doing that again any time soon.”

“Nah, you probably shouldn't,” Tom said, carefully putting an arm around his shoulders. “You probably ain't gonna want to hear this, but they're gonna feel worse tomorrow once you've been to sleep, they get right stiff and achy.”

"That sounds like the voice of experience," Andy said, shifting uncomfortably as he tried to find a more comfortable way to sit, eventually deciding that leaning against Tom was the best option. “Is that how you knew they weren't broken?" 

"Yeah. I've done mine in a couple of times, not recent like though. The worst time were when me and me dad were fightin' these five…" Seeing Andy's expression, Tom stopped. There really wasn't anyway of telling it that didn't involve mentioning vampires or making it sound like him and his dad went out beating people up for fun. "Yer not gonna be interested really, are yer? It were a rubbish story anyway." Trying not to jostle Andy too much, he got up. "Why don't I get us a cup of tea or do you wanna try and eat something. You should probably try. Soup is 'spose to be good if you're not feeling great, isn't it?"

"Tom, it's alright," Andy said, managing to look more worried than sore for a moment. “I'm not going to ask. Some things are probably best forgotten or at least not talked about.”

“Like whatever it was that happened to you?” Tom said, sitting down on the arm of the sofa. He knew he was probably pushing his luck a bit, but it looked like Andy had tried not talking about it and that didn't seem to have gone too well. “I mean you don't have to, you can tell me to shut right up, an' I will and I won't even be annoyed with yer. So it up to you.” 

“There's not much to tell really.” Andy didn't look at him. “I made a choice that I thought was right, that still think was right. Only nobody else saw it like that, they didn't want me around any more, but they couldn't get rid of me, without there being questions. I suppose they just tried to make me want to quit.”

“So what, did they like hit you and stuff? 'cause I don't think people you work with are allowed to that,” Tom said, worrying that he might be right, as it would help to explain why he'd been so shaken up by the fight outside the pub. 

“No, I could have reported that, people would have understood. No, they just stopped talking to me, began acting like I wasn't even there." He picked at a frayed patch on the knee of his jeans, trying to decide what to say. "I know why they did it, they didn't want to risk screwing up their own careers by being friends with me." 

“So is that why you packed it in?”

Andy slowly shook his head. “I tried to ignore it. Not let it get to me, but guess it did. Then I was called out to this housing estate, there were all these people shouting, and just for a minute I thought I was back...” Andy stopped and took a couple of shaky breaths before continuing. “I have probably been fine if my DCI hadn't tapped me on the shoulder. I just lashed out, I didn't even realise it was him. They gave me the choice of retirement on mental health grounds or they'd brings charges against me. I couldn't see any point in fighting it, I just wanted it to be over.”

“I don't think it sounds like anything what happened were your fault,” Tom said, not really sure what he could say or do that would help. “I think you did the right thing leaving them to get on with it, they didn't deserve to have you, not with them treating you like that.”

When Andy made no attempt to either agree with him or tell him he'd got it all wrong, Tom said, “You've gone all quiet again. You're not feeling any worse are you?”

“No, I was thinking I should have done this months ago,” Andy replied sounding drowsy now that the painkillers were starting to kick in. “Just talked to someone about it, but I didn't think anyone would understand. I was throwing away a good career because a few people weren't speaking to me, at least that how my mum saw it."

"Didn't you try to explain? She must have seen what were going on was making you unhappy, that you couldn't put up with it." 

Andy sighed, a brief, sad smile on his lips. “She's got some very ...set ideas about some things, about how people should act, and about what I should be doing with my life.” 

Tom was sure that there was a lot more to it than that, but decided not to ask any more questions as Andy looked utterly exhausted. Thinking about it, Andy had looked knackered that morning even before they'd started work for the day, not that he'd not really been in the mood then to wonder why. Now he suspected that Andy probably hadn't been sleeping that well since the phone call. It made him glad in a way that the accident had happened. Not that he wanted Andy to be hurt, he didn't, but that it had happened before they'd truly ruined their friendship or Andy had an even more serious accident. 

Eyes half closed, Andy yawned, winced and then yawned again, before leaning more heavily against him. Realising he'd have to move or spend the afternoon with Andy asleep against him, Tom picked up a cushion and passed it to him. “Why don't you have a rest and I'll see about getting us some food, being as we ain't had any lunch yet."

"I don't deserve you," Andy mumbled, settling again the cushion, already half asleep.

"And don't deserve to be alone," Tom said, knowing that nobody but himself heard it, and then turned his attention to getting them something to eat. 

 

TBC 15/9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The treatment for Andy's bruised ribs (or broken for that matter as unless they suspect it's more than three they apparently treatment is the same.) come mostly from the NHS website - http://www.nhs.uk/conditions/rib-injuries/Pages/Introduction.aspx strapping up the ribs in now a big no no and the remembering to take frequent deep breaths is a must to help prevent chest infection and even pneumonia. There does seem to be a 'don't bother A&E unless you've broken them in a serious fall, it's from a crushing injury or it from a car crash.' kind of vibe from the NHS. In fact there is no recommendation you see a doctor at all unless you are have problems breathing, the pain gets worse rather than better over time, the pain moves to your shoulder or abdomen, you start coughing up blood or being to run a temperature. 
> 
> The main advise is take it easy, take painkillers, breath normally and put ice on it (it actually say on the NHS website you could try using a packet of frozen peas wrapped in a tea towel.)
> 
> This seems to be borne out by some people complaining on a forum about this (found while googling for the NHS article), long waits in A&E, then they weren't X-rayed, they were just assessed visually and sent home with painkillers.


	13. Chapter 13

Waking up, Andy rapidly decided, was no fun at all when even trying to turn over to look at the clock meant feeling like somebody had just given you a swift kick in the ribs. Lying in bed, he stared up at the ceiling. The memories of the previous evening were a little bit hazy, although he remembered clearly enough talking to Tom about why he'd been forced to leave the police.   
He still didn't want to think too closely about the bad days when he'd dreaded going into work or the even worse ones when he been on suspension when he'd barely left the house or spoken to anybody for days on end. Knowing there was somebody there to talk to, even if it was about something completely unrelated or inconsequential to act as a distraction when he felt like running from his problems and never stopping, did actually help. 

He remembered Tom waking him after he'd slept for a few hours on the sofa and then talking to him about how he'd make sure everything was ready for the solar panels so they wouldn't fall behind on getting most farm fixed up over the summer. He'd kept him awake and distracted long enough to make sure enough of it had passed that he could take another pill before going to bed, and then, when it had when it became apparent that he couldn't actually manage to take off his t-shirt by himself Tom had helped him get ready for bed.

Pushing down the bed covers, Andy looked at the bruising and grimaced. It had developed into a fairly spectacular range of purple, black, blue in a thick line across the bottom of his chest, fading to green and yellow round the edges. It was going to take ages to fade, Andy thought miserably as he pulled the cover back up, not wanting to look at it any more. 

Andy was still trying to decide whether he should try getting up before things like getting to the toilet became a more pressing issue, when he heard his phone ring. Not the mobile he'd thrown across the living room few days before, that had been beyond repair, but his old handset that had been relegated to a cupboard drawer after getting his new, and now smashed, mobile. He'd not been happy with the idea of being back in contact with the world, but concern about the solar panel company needing to contact him and change the installation dates had won in the end, and the sim card had been put into the old phone. 

The mobile rang for a few moments before stopping. Relieved that he wasn't going to have to get up and answer it, Andy tried to find a more comfortable spot in the bed. 

“I said he's asleep, why don't you believe me?” Tom said, a minute or so later, sounding like he was getting worried by the persistence of whoever he was talking to.

He's answered my phone, was Andy's first thought, closely followed by, he must have stayed the night if he here this early. Biting his lip to suppress a groan, Andy got himself into a roughly seated position, propped by pillows. Then, suspecting he already knew who'd phoned, he called out,“I'm awake! You can come it.” 

Letting himself in to Andy's bedroom, Tom looked briefly at him, before asking, “Do you want me to find you some clothes?” 

“No, I'm fine, I'm not cold,” Andy said quickly, taking the phone from him, hoping that the person on the other end hadn't heard and come to the wrong conclusion about what was going on. He glanced down at the display. It was Gwen's number.

“Alright, I just finish getting us some breakfast then,” Tom said, heading back to the door. “Give me a shout if you need anything.” 

Anyd waited for Tom to close the door behind him for saying,“Hi, Gwen, sorry I haven't called you back earlier, my phone broke.”

“That's okay, now are you going to tell me what's going on?” Gwen said, sound undecided on whether she was more worried or curious. “So just why do you have some strange bloke in your house at seven in the morning while you're in bed with nothing on. Look if I'm interrupting something, I can call back later.”

“No, no it's not like that, really,” Andy said, pulling up the covers, aware that it was a fairly ridiculous thing to do, as it wasn't like Gwen could actually see him. “And I do have something on.” 

“You gone all red haven't you?” Gwen said with laugh. “I hope it's not as bad as that time with Sharon on traffic.”

“It not,” Andy replied, glad that she couldn't see that, if anything, it was worse. 

“You sound a lot better than you did the other day,” Gwen said sounding relieved. “I was worried about you. Rhys said I was being daft, that you could look after yourself and that you'd be pretty pissed off if I used one of the computer programs to track your phone and find out where you were.”

She didn't need to mention Torchwood for him to know that's what she meant. The power and tech that they apparently still had available and the willingness to use and abuse it for their own reasons was down right worrying sometimes. “He's right,” Andy said, deciding he really didn't want to know what else Gwen had access to. “And that's not something I say very often about Rhys.” 

“So how are you really? Tom said something about an accident.”

“I lost an argument with a piece of copper pipe, just not paying attention to what I was doing. It's just bruises really.” Which was a massive understatement, Andy thought to himself, but he didn't want Gwen to worry about him any more than she already had been. “So the answers are sore, stupid and really grateful that Tom is the nicest, most understanding bloke in the world.”

Gwen laughed before she could stop herself. “You're still sticking with nothing going on at all story then, right?”

Andy knew only too well what the situation must have sounded like. It was too close to what he'd like, but was still too scared of rejection to ask for, so he said, “You spend too much time with Harkness.”

“No, I don't. Not any more,” Gwen said sadly. “He's gone. He left months ago, I don't know even know where he is. After everything, after losing Ianto and his grandson...it was tearing him apart to stay. And I couldn't help him, couldn't do anything to make it better.” 

The silence stretched out between, Andy feeling awkward and uncertain of what to say. He'd not even know that Jack had a grandchild, although given Jack's reputation of flirting with, and presumably sleeping with, just about anybody who fancied him, he supposed there being multiple little Harkness' out there was more likely than not. It was a terrible thing to have happened though whatever the circumstances. “Maybe he'll come back,” Andy said, hoping that it was the right thing to say. 

“Maybe,” Gwen echoed, sounding less than convinced. She sighed and then said, “So who's this Tom and why is he so protective of you? Because it was more than a 'don't disturb my boss, he's busy' that I got from him.”

“He's a friend, a good friend.” It was the safest and most accurate description of what their current relationship was that Andy could think of.

“Are you sure knows that?” Gwen said, sounding concerned for him again. “Just don't lead him on, not when you're not interested.” 

“I wouldn't do that,” Andy said, knowing that him and Gwen were talking at cross purposes, but choosing not to point it out.

“You might not mean to, but you're an attractive bloke, Andy. You're nice, you care about people and you try so hard to make sure everybody is happy. It'd be easy to misread that, to see something more there. I guess I'm just saying let him down gently and don't let it get to a point where it's going to screw up you being friends with him over it.”

It was odd hearing Gwen tell him he was attractive, especially as he'd had a thing for her for years, right from the moment she was paired up with him to go out on patrol. He'd never really had a chance, anybody with half a brain could see that she was always going to pick Rhys in the end. “I suppose you're right,” Andy replied, trying not to get his hopes up that Tom might actually fancy him. 

“Sorry, I've got to go,” Gwen said after a brief pause. “I can hear Ceri's woken up again. She'll be looking for her breakfast. It's been good catching up, well trying to any way. So don't be a stranger, you call me sometime, maybe even come over for visit. I'd like it.”

“I'd like that too,” Andy said, surprised to find that he actually meant it. “I'll talk to you later then. Bye.” Switching off the phone, he lay back against the pillows. 

What was he going to do about Tom? Tom who did twisty things to his insides that were wonderful and uncomfortable and which he didn't want to stop. Tom was kind and funny and who'd put up with so much in his short life and still cared so much about others. Tom who was the best thing in his life and who would, once the building work was complete, be gone from it forever. He didn't have a phone or even an address, once he left that would be it, there would be no way of finding him again. 

Andy supposed that he could give Tom his old mobile once he got round to replacing the once that he'd smashed, so he could call him. But living as Tom apparently did he wouldn't have anywhere to charge it and there was a reasonable chance that if Tom missed his call he wouldn't have any credit to phone back. 

Tom had been far nicer to him than Andy believed he could possibly deserve given what he'd said to him just a few days before. Those days with Tom not speaking to him had been awful, living there without him, Andy suspected, would feel even worse, the farm becoming strange and lonely in a way the place hadn't felt before Tom's arrival. It felt like home with Tom there and Andy found that he was dreading losing it. Yet short inventing more work for Tom to do and getting him to move into the house once the weather turned there was no practical way for him to stay. 

He sighed and closed his eyes. It was mess. Inventing work for Tom to felt too much like he'd paying him for their continued friendship and that was so many levels of wrong, especially as he still held out the almost certainly impossible hope that one day it might turn into something more. Not that Tom had expressed any interest whatsoever in that direction or any other. In fact apart from the vague mention of Annie who made greats of cups of tea and who'd been good to talk to he didn't seemed to have had anybody much in his life apart from his late father. And on the rare occasions when he did speak about her he'd always made it sound like she was a friend rather than a girlfriend. There was always a hint of sadness in his eyes when he mentioned her too, like there was when he talked about his dad. It was enough that Andy didn't feel there was anything to be gained by asking any more questions about her and quite possibly something to be lost if he managed to upset Tom or even drive him away by prying. 

Wait and see wasn't really much a plan, but for now, Andy decided, especially as he was too sore to do much else, it was the best one he had. All he could do was hope that Tom would give some sign of wanting to be more than friends with him before the summer ended and Tom was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At this point Gwen and Andy think that events as seen in CoE is what has happened. From Jack and Ianto's points of view, they are now on a space cruise liner, as per [Finding Ways To Smile Again](http://the-silver-sun.livejournal.com/210107.html)


	14. Chapter 14

The days following Andy's accident flew past as far as Tom was concerned, although he suspected that they'd dragged horribly for Andy who'd spent much of the first week sitting miserably on the sofa, trying to find things to do which didn't require him to move. For himself, trying to get everything ready for the solar installation people had been hard work. 

With Andy unable to do any of the heavy lifting, Tom found himself working from dawn until dusk most days, with any breaks he took spent getting food for them both and making sure Andy was alright. Even with the fact that the installation date had ended up being moved week later than it initially should have been because it had been to wet for the van to get up the track to the farmhouse to deliver what was needed, it had still been a rush to get it all ready on time. 

He'd managed it in the end and he'd not minded the hard work or spending time with Andy, Tom thought as he walked through the woods high above the farm. A sore and bored Andy had still been far easier to deal with than Hal had been when he'd coming off the blood, not least because this had a definite end to it with Andy getting better. The fact that Andy hadn't sworn at him, threatened him or raved in detail about how he wanted to massacre whole towns and bathe in their inhabitants blood had been a definite a bonus. Two weeks with a detoxing vampire had really been unpleasant experience for all concerned. 

That Hal had gone back on his word almost straight away and had even turned somebody else in to a vampire despite him promising not to, had shaken Tom's trust in whatever it was that had been slowly growing between them. He still liked him, liked the confusing, irritating man that was still non the less fun to be around, but always at the back of his mind would be the fact that when it came down to it, when things were at their hardest, Hal would always be a vampire and that in the end that would always win. 

Now, three weeks on from the accident and Andy's confession about why he'd been so horrible to him and why he'd left the police force, things where starting to get back to normal. Or at least as normal as it got for him, Tom thought as he looked around, checking that he was alone. 

Although it was a little more than half an hour after dawn the woodland around him was already sunlit, the bright beams of light filtering through the leaves and sparkling on the surface of the stream. Satisfied that nobody was watching, Tom left the bag containing his clothes on the bank, before climbing down into the water. 

The with the summer nights remaining light until late and transformation never starting until after the sun had set, Tom had found it easy say he was going to get an early night and then slip away and follow the scent trail he'd laid the previous night. Washing off the grime and remains of the wolf's meal before returning to the farm was a sensible precaution, Tom had decided after waking and seeing the state of himself, if he wanted Andy to believe that he'd spent the whole night asleep in his tent.

It was how it must have been for George and Nina in the months before things started going wrong, Tom thought, picking up his flannel and soap from where he'd left them on the bank. You could live your life around the wolf if you were careful, you didn't have to let it fill up your whole world. It got its night to run free and you got to your live you life like a normal person. 

It was, in a way, what he'd imagined having with Allison. They'd get their own house which had woodland nearby and somewhere safe to change inside if there was some reason they couldn't change outdoors. The old coal cellar in the farmhouse would make a good place to change when the weather got too dicey to risk changing out of doors.

Despite the obvious differences it felt right comparing the situation with himself and Andy to George and Nina or him and Allison. He liked Andy, liked him in the way he'd liked Allison, and if the last couple of dreams he'd had were anything to go by he definitely wanted to do things with Andy. Relationship things. He felt himself blush, cheeks growing hot at the memory. 

It wasn't the only part of him that remembered, and Tom let his hand, soapy from where he'd started to wash his hair, drop lower. He might be waiting for the right person to come along before he did this with them, he told himself, but it was always good to make sure it was all working properly, at least a few times a week.

He'd really thought Allison had been the one. He'd kissed her and she'd kissed him and they'd done a bit of touching and it had been a lot of fun, but they'd not got any further than taking their shoes and Allison's glasses off, they'd both found that they hadn't been ready for it. 

It would be different with Andy, Tom thought, closing his eyes, hand speeding up. Andy was a few years older than him, he'd probably had a girlfriend or boyfriend before, he'd know what he was doing, be able to show him how to do it right. He stopped. What if they started something doing something and he still wasn't ready for it and they had to stop? Knowing that he'd disappointed him would be crushing. Or what Andy thought he was rubbish? What if he laughed at him? 

Mood thoroughly killed, Tom dipped his head into the cold, clear water, and rinsed the soap from his hair. And then there was the wolf, he thought bitterly, there was always the wolf lurking there at the edge of everything. Would it be right for him to get into any kind of more than friends relationship with Andy without him knowing about it? On the other hand it was only for a few hours one night a month and it wasn't like Andy could catch being a werewolf from him unless he got bitten or scratched while he was a wolf, at which point him surviving the encounter was probably the bigger issue. 

Tom sighed and rubbed his hand across his short cropped hair, feeling the thick scars on his scalp that he'd received during the attack that had turned him into a werewolf. Perhaps it would be safer if Andy never knew the truth. He was a nice bloke and he understood how life could sometimes be give you a rough hand, but expecting him to be fine with sharing a bed with a werewolf? That was asking too much anybody.

The best he could hope for if Andy found out what he was was being told to leave and never come back. The worse case scenario was that Andy reported it to somebody and government agency his dad had warned him about once caught him. He would end up locked in cell for the rest of his life. He knew some people would say that the worst option would be dying, but to be locked inside, seeing nobody but your jailers, never going out in the sun or walking through the woods again, that was worse than death in his mind. 

After getting dressed, Tom walked slowly back to the farm, trying to convince himself that it would be for the best if nothing happened between him and Andy. That he should just accept the fact that he was just being stupid about wanting a normal life like people had rather than the weird, messed up approximation of one that unnatural things like him got to have. 

It didn't work and by the time he reached his tent and dropped of his pack, Tom had decided that he should ask Andy if he wanted to go out for a drink and a meal. If Andy asked if it were a date as he'd done the previous time, he'd say yes, and hope like mad that everything would go okay from there. If Andy didn't ask he'd not lost anything, and there was always the possibility that perhaps if they had a few drinks he might get up the nerve to just kiss him and worry about the consequences later. 

The farm was busy as Tom reached it, scaffolding being erected around the south facing sides barn and farmhouse, the men installing it talking loudly to each other as they lifted the metal poles into place. 

Any idea finding a quiet moment and asking Andy out rapidly faded. They did need the panels, Tom told himself trying to be reasonable about it, but he'd not thought they'd been there for a few more days, that he'd have peace and quiet a bit longer. Disappointed, but trying not to show it walked over to Andy. “They're a bit early aren't they, so how long do they reckon it's gonna take?”

Andy gave him a baffled look. “It nearly ten, it's not that early. They said they should be done by late afternoon, although they'll have to come back later in the week with the storage battery for the house, as they one they brought will only work with the panels on the barn.” 

“That's good,” Tom said, not entirely sure that it was the right answer. “But I thought they weren't 'spose to be here until next week.”

“No, the nineteenth it's been on the calendar for ages, well at least since I rebooked it.” He frowned. “Are you alright?” 

“Yeah,” Tom said faintly, the date feeling like a punch in the gut. How could it have crept up on his with out him noticing? A whole year since he'd found his dad, had lost him and had failed to kill the vampire that had taken him from him. 

“You don't look it,” Andy said, sounding worried as he took a step towards him. 

“I just had a crap nights sleep, that's all,” Tom replied, staring down at his feet, wanting nothing more than to be alone for a while. 

“It's that bloody dog again,” Andy said turning to look across the valley. “I reckon it's somebody with a holiday home, you hear it every few weeks.” 

“Yeah,” Tom replied faintly, realising that he'd have to go further into the hills and mountains to change next time. If Andy could here him, so could other people and it was a scarily thin line in his mind between people hearing him and the wolf getting its teeth and claws into them. “Don't you like dogs, then?”

Before Andy could answer one of the men on the scaffolding on the house called out to him about where he wanted the wiring to come through the roof so the power supply could be connected properly. 

“I just came to tell you that I'm going to go take a look at the wall along the edge of the wood, see if there's anything that needs doing,” Tom said taking advantage of the fact that Andy was momentarily distracted.“There ain't much I can do here while all that's up.” He pointed at the scaffolding. “I'd only be in the way.” 

“If you're sure,” Andy said, not sounding convinced. “If you need some more sleep, I don't mind. I can manage to watch other people work without hurting myself you know.”

Letting Andy think he was tired seemed like a good idea, so he nodded and said, “Yeah. I might just do that.” 

The drystone wall at the edge of the wood was in need of repair, but after pulling half-heartedly at a few of the loose stones Tom gave up and sat down with his back again the time-worn, mossy stonework. Feeling more lost and alone than he had done in a long time and more desperately in need of advice from his dad about so many things in his life, Tom let the grief overwhelm him, the bright sunlit woodland blurring in a haze to tears around him. 

 

Tom knew he must have fallen asleep at some point, as when he opened his eyes the shadows had grown long, the excessive heat of the day cooling as evening drew in. Looking down at the farmhouse from the wooded slopes of the hill he could see the scaffolding and the installation team were gone and the solar panels were in place. The dark blue and silver of the panels glinted in the evening sunlight, making them look strange and out of place against the slate roof of the old farmhouse. If it meant not having to rely on the noisy and smelly generator all the time he was happy to put up with them.

Walking back to the farmhouse, Tom hesitated at the door, not really wanting to go inside or feeling sociable. Leaning back against the ancient stonework of the farmhouse he looked out across the valley and sighed. He couldn't leave Andy alone any longer than he already had done, it wasn't fair. He should ask how the installation went, if there was any more work that needed to be done on the house or the barn. He should check to make sure that Andy hadn't over done things, and if he had, persuade him to actually take one of the painkillers the doctor had given him, even if they did seem to make him ridiculously sleepy. 

“There you are,” Andy said sounding relieved as Tom let himself into the house. Standing by the range, he put the lid back on the saucepan he'd he'd been stirring. “I was beginning to think you were avoiding me.”

“No, I were just busy, that's all,” Tom replied worried that Andy would notice how rough his voice sounded. It wasn't right to expect Andy to have to deal with him being upset, Tom thought, turning back towards the door. He wasn't completely better from his accident yet and he had enough of his own problems without having to hear about any more. 

He heard the spoon Andy had been using to stir whatever was for dinner get dropped on the table and his obviously worried sharp intake of breath, and his shoulders slumped, there was no way he was just going to be able to get away without some form of explanation. Sitting down on the sofa, Tom waited for the inevitable questions that would follow. 

TBC Sunday 22/9


	15. Chapter 15

Meeting Tom was the best thing that had happened to him in a long time, Andy thought as he started to get their evening meal ready. The past three weeks or so could have been so much worse if it hadn't been for him. Admittedly if it hadn't been for Tom he'd never have been trying to get the copper piping out of the old cowshed in the first place. 

He'd have still had to deal with the terrible news about Nikki and Jonah Bevan though and without Tom he's not sure what he'd have done. Got through it somehow on his own, he supposed, as there wasn't really wasn't any other option in the end. How long it would have taken before he'd felt like facing the world again or with dealing with anybody or anything was debatable. He hoped it wouldn't have been as bad as the weeks following his suspension for pushing over his DCI, at that point getting dressed or even getting out of bed, guilt and fear about what he'd done, what people would say or what he might do sapping any energy or enthusiasm he had for anything. 

He knew that if he'd been alone at the farm Gwen would have come over and tried to help. He also knew that he would have pretended that he was fine because she'd got more to put up with than he had. If it hadn't been for the accident he wasn't sure that he would have talked to Tom either. Knackering his ribs had forced him to accept help and to admit that, physically at least, he wasn't alright. And somewhere between the pain, the exhaustion of a few nights with very little sleep and the painkillers which had made him feel even more spaced out he'd just found himself talking to Tom about it. That Tom had listened, had understood, had cared enough to want to try to help him meant more than he could say. 

 

The sun was low on the horizon when Andy finally heard the door open and Tom come into the house. Although he had his back to his, Andy could tell there was something wrong when there was no cheerful 'good evening' or 'what's for tea then?' 

“There you are,” Andy said, not caring how relieved he sounded. Standing by the range, he put the lid back on the saucepan he'd been stirring, before turning round. “I was beginning to think you were avoiding me.”

There was a pause before Tom answered, sounding upset and unwilling to talk to him.“No, I were just busy, that's all.”

It was too reminiscent of when Tom hadn't been speaking to him, those days that had actually made him more miserable than even the bruised ribs had. "Whatever I've said I'm sorry," Andy said, sitting down beside him, his ribs still aching a little as he'd pushed himself harder that day with helping the solar panel installers. "Now are you going to tell me what I've done wrong?" 

"You've not done anythin'." Tom looked away, but Andy still had time to see his eyes were red and puffy. 

"Tom?" Andy felt nerves and worry starting to claw at him. What had he missed? If it wasn't him, what else was it? Had Tom been into town? Maybe the woman at the shop had said she didn't want any more carvings. That didn't seem likely though, they'd sold well, and even if she had Tom would have just told him and probably asked him if there was somewhere else he could try. It worried him that he couldn't think what it could be, that despite living for weeks with Tom in such close company that he didn't know him well enough to know what was upsetting him. "What's happened? Whatever it is you can tell me."

"I were so busy I forgot, didn't I?" Tom rubbed his eyes with a grimy hand. "It were a year ago the other night that me dad died. I'd meant to go back to where he's buried and make sure it's all tidy like and just tell him what I've been doing. How I've got a proper job like he wanted me to."

“I'm sorry,” Andy said, at a loss at what else to say, feeling guilty himself now that he'd not connected it to how upset had been when he'd asked about the tattoo just after they first met. “Why don't you take a few days off, just go back to...” He stopped realising that Tom hadn't said where it had happened. “To go wherever you need to go.”

Tom shook his head. “No. I'd feel right rubbish goin' there late. He wouldn't have minded me missing it, he knew all the stuff like gravestones and that where really for them whose left behind. He'd have just said, 'what's done is done, no point being all wet about it.' But that don't make me feel no better, 'specially not as it's sort of my fault in a way he got killed in the first place.”

Andy knew all to well the sound of grief and guilt talking, you couldn't spend the best part of ten years in the police force giving people bad news without hearing just about every variation of it. Tom's sounded all too like the kind of thing you got from people where they'd claim it was all their fault because they hadn't told whoever had died not to go to the shops or walk the dog, because if they wouldn't have been killed by a car that skidded on a patch of ice or a tree falling on them. You couldn't really reason with that kind of guilt, because while it was technically true there was no way anybody could have foreseen what would happen. They weren't ready to hear that though, because as terrible as the accident was, finding somebody to blame, even if it was themselves, was easier than acknowledging that sometimes truly awful stuff happens to people for no reason and there's no way you can foresee or prevent it. 

Tom looked so miserable though that Andy knew he couldn't just leave it at that, couldn't leave him to suffer as he obviously had been doing, in silence. Not when Tom had sat and talked to him so many times when things had been getting him down and he'd had nothing to do but think and be too sore to move about and find a distraction. He patted Tom's leg, trying to mix getting his attention with some level of comfort, then said, “How about I get us a cup of tea and you can tell me about it?”

“There ain't much to tell. He'd hurt his leg, and I reckoned he'd be safest staying at this old hotel with some people we'd met when they'd needed our help with some stuff.” He rubbed his hand across his eyes again. “Only he weren't and maybe if I'd listened to him, if I'd let him just get over in the van liked he'd wanted, I've still have me dad.” 

“You can't know that,” Andy said, wondering not for the first time just what sort of life Tom and his father had lived. If perhaps Tom's dad had been on the run from the law or from some criminal element. He wanted to think that it was simpler than that, that perhaps the late lamented McNair senior had just been a hippy type free spirit who thought a life on the open road free from obligations was the best life for him and his son. He wanted to believe it, but somehow he never quite could. It felt like there was something vital he was missing about the situation, but he just couldn't piece together what it was.

Tom sighed and then said unconvincingly, “I 'spose. But I still can't help thinkin' it, can I?” 

“I guess not.” Andy gave his shoulder a squeeze. “I make us that tea.” When in doubt hot, overly sweet tea was the way to go. That and adding a generous slug of whisky to it, Andy thought picking up a bottle from one of the shelves and returning with it to the sofa. 

After handing Tom his tea, Andy gestured towards the mug with the bottle. Tom nodded, still looking utterly miserable, so Andy added some to his drink before the same to his own. 

Tea with whisky soon changed to just whisky drunk from the same battered cups as Andy didn't have the inclination to get up and make any more tea and Tom didn't seem to care either way. Silence at first had given way to conversation, the stories of his life with his dad, were by turns touching, sad and funny, and Andy knew that even if he hadn't been attracted to him before he'd definitely be heading that way now. 

“You're the best friend I've ever had,” Tom said, sounding more than a little the worse for wear. “Don't think I ever really had a best friend before. It's nice. You're nice.”

“Oh Tom,” Andy said quietly. There was something heartbreaking in the way Tom said it, like he'd not even thought he'd ever have a friend. Tom made him feel protective in a way Andy hadn't really thought himself to be, even though Gwen had often told him he was. Not that Tom needed protecting, he was more than capable of taking care of himself, the fight outside the pub had shown him that. But Andy knew all too well that things didn't have to have a physical original to be hurtful or damaging. Tom seemed to have such limited experience of dealing with people, of 

“I meant I've had a few friends, but not ones I could really talk to about things.” He picked at the frayed edge of his shorts. “I 'spose Annie was sort of like one, but she were always a bit like a mum too, I 'spose. I never had a mum, but Annie'd be tellin' me to help tidy up, eat my vegetables and makin' sure I didn't stay out too late. But there were things that me dad said you shouldn't talk to ladies about, an' she didn't like hearing about some of the stuff me and me dad used to do, so sometimes it were a bit hard to talk some things. It weren't her fault though.” 

He sniffed wetly, rubbed his eyes and then finished the whisky left in his mug. “She'll have been gone a year too, well in a few months, her and little Eve. She were a lovely little thing, all smiley and funny. She'd have bin one soon. I'd have made sure she'd have had the best party ever. With cake and balloons and everything.” 

Just when he'd thought he'd heard the worst, Tom came out with another revelation about life that was even more upsetting and depressing, Andy thought putting his arm around him. Between the drink and everything else he'd put up with lately, he wasn't sure he'd be able to stop himself from shedding a few tears as well. “I'm so sorry. Was she...” Andy swallowed hard, the question sticking in his throat. “Was she your daughter?”

Tom gave him a wide eyed, shocked look. “Of course not, I weren't married, were I? She were George and Nina's baby, but me and Annie looked after her when they died. She were like a sister I 'spose, a lovely little sister. I never had a family. I always wanted one. My dad said we'd find one one day, but it were a lie.” 

It wasn't the time to point out that babies didn't only happen when people were married and Andy poured more whisky for them both. Part of him knew that they'd probably had more than enough, the other said that they needed this, that if this was what it took for Tom to open up about his past, if it helped him at all then it was worth inevitable hangover he'd have in the morning.

"Things weren't all bad, sometimes thing were good. Like Hal,” Tom continued, not seeming to have heard him. “I were friends, I think we were. I really liked him, well when he was off the blood um bloody stuff, yeah that what I meant, stuff.” 

“It's alright,” Andy said, wanting Tom to know that he could tell him anything. “I'm not police now, am I? I'm not going to report him. So if you want you can tell me.”

“Nah, it's not like that, it weren't like what he did were exactly illegal. Well I 'spose it were,kind of sometimes, just depended on how it got it. It just made him into a right knob when he did.” Tom smiled, sad and fond at the same time. “He were just all weird the rest of the time, sometimes it were a bit annoying, but it were kinda nice sometimes though as well. So I do miss him. Just sitting on the sofa watching telly or working in the cafe, or just talkin' about stuff.”

Andy wondered why it had never occurred to him that Tom might be lonely at the farm. It seemed suddenly very selfish to have imagined that his own company would be enough. Tom was young, he should be out living his life, making all those stupid, wonderful, embarrassing memories that you could look back on when you were older and hopefully wiser, and realise that given half the chance you'd do them all over again. “You know you don't have to stay here, if you're lonely you could go out or something.” 

“But I like it here with you, it's nice.” Closing his eyes, Tom settled against him, head resting against his shoulder. “You're nice. Friendly. You smell nice and friendly.”

Andy sighed, wishing that he circumstances were different. It was just his luck that by the time Tom started showing any affection towards him he'd be at the overly friendly, talking complete bollocks stage of being drunk. He'd be lying if he'd said having Tom leaning against him, his arm warm loosely draped across his lap, wasn't turning him on. He also knew that he'd be the worse friend in the world if he tried it on now. He'd be taking advantage of him, of his grief and loneliness, and that would be a pretty shitty thing to do even if Tom weren't drunk. The fact that he was, even though it hadn't quite got to the point where he was incapable, would make it verging on the criminal. “Come on you'd have some water before you go to sleep,” Andy said, reluctantly lifting Tom's arm off him, and getting up. “Or your going to have one hell of a hangover in the morning.” 

“I don't get them,” Tom mumbled, curling up on the sofa and closing his eyes. “I don't think it lets me, not like colds, don't understand colds. Dad said makes you stronger...and didn't drink before the moon, but it's after, so it's all alright.” 

Definitely more than a little bit out of it, Andy thought a drunken laugh bubbling up, as he realised that now he was upright the room seemed to be a lot fuzzier and more moving than it had been when he was sitting down. Walking into the corner of the table as he went to get Tom some water, Andy put his finger to his lips and shushed at the can of cola that had been on it fell over and rolled onto the floor. 

Still laughing at himself, Andy managed to get more water on himself than in the mug, before walking with exaggerated care back to Tom. 

“I am so, so drunk,” Andy said, as he tried to put the mug on the table and missed. “I should have kissed you.” 

Tom blinked and looked bleary eyed at him. “Why'd yer miss me? I haven't gone anywhere, have I?” 

“No, I said...” Andy stopped, hating the fact that even now he couldn't say it. “I said I'd miss you if you went.”

Yawning, Tom closed his eyes again, and mumbled,“But I don't wanna go, wanna stay here with you forever.”

“And I want you to,” Andy replied, although the only response he got was a snore. Sitting down on the floor by the sofa, he looked at Tom and sighed. “Why am I so useless that I just can't tell you that?” 

TBC Wednesday 25/9


	16. Chapter 16

Trying to wake himself up coffee had been a really stupid idea, Tom thought miserably as he sat on the ground next to the outside toilet, hoping that he wasn't about to be sick again. Drinking the amount whisky he'd done previous night had been a stupid idea too, he decided as he closed his eyes in an attempt to stop the pounding in his head. All it did was make you feel awful and leave you nothing but hazy, disjointed memories of the previous evening. 

“Are you alright? Have you been out here all night?” 

Tom opened his eyes to see Andy leaning against the wall next to him. Bleary eyed and squinting in the bright morning sun, Tom thought he looked as rough as he felt. Thinking felt like wading through treacle and it took a moment for him to answer, replying, “Yes and no, I think.”

“Huh?” Andy gave him a baffled look and then sat down heavily next to him. “Don't you know?”

Tom closed his eyes again, before attempting to answer. “I weren't out all night.” He's pretty sure he wasn't outside all night. It had been light when he'd tried to make the coffee or at least not when he'd had to hurry outside. He'd planned on asking Andy if he'd wanted any, but he'd been asleep, still dressed and sprawled across the covers on top of his bed. “And I don't think I'm gonna be sick again. Not if I don't move.” 

“That's good.” Andy leant sideways, a warm, heavy weight against Tom's shoulder. “I'm not sure yet. Not about me. I think I might still be drunk. Just a bit.”

“Try not to do it on me,” Tom said, knowing that if he did, he'd soon follow.

Andy gave a mumble in response before lapsing into silence. 

When he hadn't said anything for a a few minutes, Tom nudged at his arm with his shoulder. “Are you awake?”

“Yeah. Thinking.” 

“About what? I didn't say owt stupid last night, did I?”

“Some stuff,” Andy replied after a pause. 

Hoping it wasn't too embarrassing or anything about the wolf, Tom said, “Like what?” 

Andy opened his eyes and looked at him. “You said you don't get hangovers. Looks like you were wrong.” 

“Were that all?” Tom asked relieved that he'd not made a complete idiot of himself or if he had Andy didn't remember it either. “There weren't anything else, were there?”

“Don't think so. I don't really remember what I said, never mind anything I was told.” 

Despite his pounding headache Tom could hear the lie in Andy's voice. It hadn't been there before when he'd asked about what he'd said, so he was fairly sure that Andy was lying about something he'd said to him and now regretted it. He wished that he could remember, but thinking too hard made the throbbing in his head worse, so he stopped.

They sat in silence for a while longer before Andy said, “We should probably try to eat something. We might feel better if we did.”

“Yeah,” Tom agreed with absolutely no conviction at all. Moving seemed like a very bad idea. Sitting completely still until his head felt less likely to explode was definitely a better one. 

“Do you want to get something now? The sausage and beans thing I made last night should be alright on toast” 

Tom thought about it from a moment, just the idea of food made him feel queasy. His shook his head careful to keep the movements to a minimum.“No.”

“Later then,” Andy replied sounding more relieved than disappointed

“Later,” Tom agreed, resting his head against Andy's shoulder. “Definitely later.” 

 

x0x0x0x

 

The sky was already cloudless, the temperature and humidity climbing to what Tom suspected would become uncomfortably levels by late afternoon as he'd made his along the winding footpaths that lead up to high point at Coed y Foel. Over looking the both the Caban Coch and Garreg-Ddu reservoirs as well as the Elan and Claerwen valleys it was the place to start his search for somewhere more isolated to change or to just sit and think. 

It had taken him until early afternoon to feel like doing anything more than sitting or lying still, but by the time they'd finally eaten and Andy had retreated back to his bedroom, headachy and undecided if the food was going to stay down for long, Tom had started to feel restless. It had been that restlessness combined with the need to clear the last of the fuzziness from his mind that had driven him to start walking.

He didn't know if it was because he'd lived so much of his life outdoors or whether it was because of the wolf that he felt at home there, either way he felt better there. Given a choice of where to be outside he preferred woodland. The was something about it, seeing everything from the towering ancient trees to the new seedlings growing in the space where one of the old trees had fallen. Everything fitted together, found ways of living together. You could feel the age of the place, know that it had been since time immemorial, and would continue to be there, if you just left if in peace. 

He wondered if the wolf liked it there, whether it cared for anything other than the hunt or the chase. He didn't know much about what the wolf liked despite it having been part of him for the whole of his remembered life. Its need for space and for freedom though he could feel. He'd changed in a confined space before, when there'd been no other safe option, but it had always felt different afterwards, like he'd still had too much energy, a restlessness filling him that didn't seem to ease until the next time he transformed and could run free once more. 

Reaching the top of Coed y Foel, Tom sat down and looked out and looked out at the shining curves of the reservoirs below. The hot summer sun sparkling on the water, while there was nothing to be heard but the faint sounds of nature living it's life undisturbed around him. It was, he though relaxing against the stone cairn on that had been sited on the highest a spot for hiker to use to get their bearings, just about as perfect as it was likely to get for being a werewolf or for getting away from the world. 

There was less woodland around the Elan Valley than he would have liked, but there was something about the openness of the moorland, the wide skies and rolling rough grasses that promised freedom. Yet even in the bright summer sun there was a bleakness to it, an emptiness that was at once both liberating and frightening in its isolation. 

Not that there was much summer left really, Tom realised, as he looked down at the woods in the valley bottoms, the trees growing thick and close to the banks of the reservoirs. The rowan and elder trees and the bramble bushes he'd past on his walk up had already been heavy with fruit, and he suspected that if he'd looked hard enough he'd have seen hazels and oak, their branched weighed down nuts. His dad had always said that it meant it was going to be a long, cold winter. 

Transforming out here when it was in depths of winter when snow was thick on the ground and the temperatures were falling away to well below freezing would be a terrible idea. The wolf would be happy enough running in the snow, but he definitely wouldn't be. Changing back naked and potentially miles from his clothes would make hypothermia a frighteningly real possibility. No, Tom thought worriedly, he'd have to tell Andy what he was before the weather got that bad. Either that or find somewhere secure to change and make up an excuse why he was going out in such horrible weather, as there wasn't anywhere he could used on the farm. The coal cellar in the house would do as a last resort, he supposed, although he would have to get Andy to pile things up in front of the door to make sure he didn't get out. 

Tom sighed, even the bright sunlight sparkling on the waters of the Caban Coch reservoir far below failed to lift his spirits. Andy being fine with what he was was an impossible dream. What normal person would want a werewolf in their life, never mind their bed? 

He really did want to be in Andy's bed as well as his life. He was in love with him, Tom was sure of that. Not that he'd got much experience of being in love or having relationships, but he was as certain as he could be that what he felt to him was love. He worried about him if he looked sick or tired or hurt, he wanted to see him smile and laugh, wanted to know that he was happy, wanted to talk with him and listen to him, to just be with him in general, to be in his life and for that to never, ever change. 

Perhaps if Andy fell in love with him first, if he felt the same way he did, then maybe it wouldn't matter he spent a few hours a month as a werewolf. He sighed again. Or maybe it would make him hate him even more than if he'd told earlier. Losing Andy after having any kind of life together was too horrible to contemplate. But the idea of not trying to have that life, not giving it as chance was terrible too. It would be as good as admitting that he'd never have anyone, that the wolf always won in the end, no matter what you did.

Why did life have to be so confusing? Tom wondered, getting up and heading down to the shore of the reservoir, knowing that he needed the distraction of walking before he started to over think things. Or was it under thinking them that was the problem, he thought as he followed the path down through the woods, was it that he just wasn't bright enough to understand what would have been obvious to everybody else? 

It was quiet on the shore when he reached it, the weather feeling hotter and more humid now he come down from the hills. There was a closeness in the air that Tom associated with storms, although the sky was still blue and cloudless, and he doubted there would be any relief from the heat in the form of rain any time soon. 

It would be cooler in the water, he decided, so after checking that there wasn't anybody around, Tom left most of his clothes on the shore and waded into the water. Never dive into places like this had been his dad's advice when he'd decided that it was time to teach him to swim, you don't know how deep it is or how cold, it's just asking for trouble. Is was good advice too, Tom thought feeling the water, cool to the point of cold where it was fed by upland streams, swirling about his legs. He definitely wouldn't be doing this any when other than the middle of summer. 

Some time later, sitting on the shore, the golden evening sunlight still hot enough to dry him, Tom wondered if Andy had ever come up here to swim or if he even knew the reservoirs were there, as he seemed to rarely leave the farm. It would do him good, Tom decided to get out of the house for a while, to do something other than work on the farm. He could ask him to go swimming with him tomorrow. 

Tom smiled at the idea. Perhaps if they went swimming together, something which would mean were little to nothing in the way of clothes, it would be easier to tell him how much he liked him.   
Maybe if it was still really hot and sunny maybe he could offer to rub sun cream on his back. He'd seen that in a film Alex had been watching once, the man and woman had...well it wouldn't have been a film his dad would have approved of him watching he was certain of that. He'd gone red and Alex had called him cute, while Hal had seemed more concerned about how the sand would stick to the sun cream, his horrified expression and his whispered, 'but the chafing' had meant they'd all ended up laughing, any embarrassment forgotten. 

Even if it didn't work, Tom told himself as he got ready to walk back to the farm, he'd still get to spend time with Andy, which could only be a good thing. 

From the far side of the reservoir it was a long walk back to the farm and it was late by the time he reached it, the sun long set despite the light summer evenings. The farmhouse was quiet and dark, the only light on was was in Andy's bedroom and Tom hesitated at the door. It wasn't fair to wake Andy up to say that he wanted to say for longer and to ask him if he wanted to go for a swim tomorrow. 

He would talk to him in the morning, Tom decided heading down the path to the side of the farm that lead to his tent on the edge of the woods. He'd have a good think about what to say, plan it out so he didn't make a mess of it. Smiling and looking forward to the morning, Tom got into his tent as the first drops of rain began to fall and thunder rumbled across the valley. 

 

TBC Sunday 29/9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the lateness of this part. Sunday's part will appear on time (I've already got most of it written), and yes, Tom and Andy will finally do something about what they're feeling for each other. 
> 
> The description of the Elan Valley and the place names come from both google maps and the Clwyd-Powys archaeological trust's information (which has a lot of lovely pictures) http://www.cpat.org.uk/projects/longer/histland/elan/evintr.htm#1132 Elan Village


	17. Chapter 17

A sharp crack of lightning followed almost immediately by the deep rumble of thunder woke Andy from where he'd fallen asleep, reading and waiting for Tom to return. Lying in bed, he could hear to the rain hammering against the slate roof and the wind rushing over the top of the chimney. Outside, another flash of lightening lit up the farmyard, the cobbled surface looking more like a pond than a somewhere he'd sat with Tom just a few hours earlier. 

Tom. Andy got up and looked into the living room; it was silent and empty. Returning to his room, he peered out into the rain soaked night. Surely Tom wouldn't still be in his tent in weather like this? Yet where else would he go if not to the house?

Worry gnawed at him. Had he even got back from his walk? Why had he not asked him where he was going or when he'd be back? Every worse case scenario suddenly felt a hundred times more likely than him just having decided to shelter in the barn rather than come in late and wake him. Knowing that there was no chance of getting back to sleep while Tom's whereabouts were unknown, Andy put on his boots, picked up a torch from the shelf next to the door and went out into the night.

The rain was torrential and Andy was soaked to the skin before he'd even got a dozen paces from the door. There was no sign of Tom in the barn and Andy tried, mostly unsuccessfully, to push down the fear that something was terribly wrong. The knowledge that Tom was used to being outdoors and was probably better prepared for any eventuality of the weather than just about anyone he knew didn't help in the slightest. The torch flickered, as he went back out into the rain, its light not going as far as he would have liked as he carefully made his way down the slippery stone paved path to where Tom had pitched his tent. 

“Tom!” Andy called out as he looked around. Blinking the cascading water ineffectually from eyes, he shouted again. “Tom, where are you!” 

The hollow where Tom's tent had been glinted in the torchlight, water standing a couple of inches deep across it. Running forward, something caught round Andy ankle, nearly tripping and he gave startled yell and he stumbled back. Heart hammering in his chest, he looked down to find that what had tripped him had been one of the guide ropes for Tom's tent. There was no sign of Tom though, the tent seeming to collapsed at some point earlier in the night, and which was now lying in an empty and forlorn heap in the rain and mud. 

Shining the torch into the rain-soaked night Andy looked around wildly, panic threatening to engulf him. Where could he be? What if lost his way coming back to the farm? Or if he'd slipped and fallen? He could be hurt and the water was deep enough in places that if he was lying face first he could have… Andy closed his eyes, a shiver running through him. He remembered all too clearly an incident he'd been called to when he'd barely been on the force six months. A rough sleeper who had a reputation as being an alcoholic had been found dead in the gutter, after apparently having fallen into a drunken stupor during a thunderstorm. The water had been barely six inches deep. It was hardly the same, but it fuel the fear none the less. 

"Tom!" he called out again, hurrying as fast as he could in the gloom, water swirling round his feet as he headed for the trees that ran at the foot of the slope. "Tom, are you out here?"

“I'm 'ere,” Tom called out as he got up from where he'd been sitting beneath a tree. Wearing nothing apart from his underwear and his tatty, ancient waxed jacket, he still looked like the best sight Andy had ever seen.

Feeling weak with relief, Andy rushed across the last few feet that separated them and wrapped his arms around him. He could deal with any awkwardness later, he told himself, right now he needed to know that he was real, alive and safe if he was going to stop shivering any time soon. 

Tom froze for a moment, then hugged him back, holding him close long past the point where Andy thought he'd let go. “What you doing out here?” Tom asked eventually, relaxing his grip but not letting go entirely. “It's a right rotten night.”

“Looking for you,” Andy said, glad that yet another rumble of thunder helped to hide how much his voice shook. “Come on. Let's get back to the house.” 

Slipping and sliding on mud and wet cobbles, Andy's torch having finally given up under the torrential onslaught of the rain, they eventually made it back along the track to the farmhouse. The living room was in darkness when Andy opened the door and flicking the light switch did nothing to solve it. Hoping that it was just water having tripped the fuse box, rather than any having got into the storage battery for the solar panels and shorted it out, Andy said, “I'll get a candle.”

Feeling his way along the edge of the table, knowing that from there the dresser with its drawers containing candles and matches were just a few more feet, Andy forgot about the rug between the table and the sofa. His foot caught beneath it and for the second time that night, Andy felt himself falling. Reaching for the table and missing, he landed backwards on the floor with an undignified yelp. 

“You okay?” Tom asked, moving carefully towards him. “You want a hand getting up?” 

“Yeah,” Andy replied, feeling more stupid than anything else, as nothing seemed to hurt. Taking hold his hand after a couple of attempt to find in it the dark, Andy was almost on his feet when Tom tripped on the same edge of the rug he had and pulled them back down. 

Having Tom wet, warm, heavy and moving on top of him was too much and Andy bit his lip, all too aware that a certain part of his body was starting to react in a very interested way. “Tom...” Andy began hoping that he wouldn't take offence or be too embarrassed. 

“It's alright,” Tom said, a grin growing on his face. “I really like you too. I weren't sure you did, not like that, but I'd hoped and I were going to ask eventually. I'd got it all planned out like, it's what I went out to think about today, how to tell you.”

It was too dark to say their eyes met, but Andy had no doubt that Tom knew what he's doing as he leant down and kissed him. It was eager and just a little bit rough, his obvious inexperience making him clumsy. It was wonderful though as far as Andy was concerned, it was everything he'd hoped for but hadn't dare to ask for out of fear of rejection. 

It had been far too long since he'd been with anybody, especially somebody he cared about so much, and while he'd never really expected to end up having sex with Tom on the living room floor, Andy decided he was definitely in favour of the idea right now. He ran a hand down Tom's chest, stopping when he reached his underwear, palming the erection straining against the rain-soaked cotton.

What he hadn't expected was Tom to freeze, a surprised gasp breaking their kiss. “What wrong?” Andy said, brain trying to function through a haze of arousal. 

“Nothing, it's just that I ain't sure what I'm 'sposed to do next. I mean, I sort of know... “ He trailed off sounding embarrassed. “There were this girl, well woman, Allison showed me some stuff on her computer, when we were thinkin' about doing this, but we never did do more an' kiss in the end. An' I don't know what you like doing.”

“You've never...” Andy trailed off, stomach doing a flip that was definitely more nerves than desire. That Tom would be a virgin had never entered his head. Inexperienced, perhaps, but at twenty one he'd assumed that there would have been someone, that he'd have done something. It was more than a little daunting to realise just how much Tom was offering him.

When he'd failed to respond, Tom's face fell, his hands still under Andy's t-shirt falling still. “I've scared you off, ain't I? I've done this all wrong and I shouldn't have said anything about not knowing what I'm doing, you're going to think I'm right rubbish now.”

“No, it's not that,” Andy said quickly, having Tom blaming himself “It's just I've never been with anybody who hasn't, well you know, done it before. Are you really sure you want to do this? I mean here, now, with me.”

“Of course I want it, I've wanted it for ages,” Tom said earnestly. “My dad said I should wait until I found the right one, well he said girl, but I think he meant person. He were always a bit vague about stuff like this. Took me ages to figure of that it weren't real birds and bees he were talkin' about. I'm always doing stuff like that, not getting it. But I get this, get you, so what I'm try to say is that it's you, that you're the right person, the one I've been waiting for. The right one for me. ” He smiled, nervous and eager. “I should probably stop talking now, 'cause I'm making a right idiot of myself here, ain't I?”

“No, you're not. Not an idiot, never that,” Andy said kissing again him before Tom could start putting himself down any more. He wasn't sure Tom ever saw what he was doing as that, but he still didn't like to have to hear it. “I think we should get up, get into bed.”

“Yeah, that's probably better than here on the floor, it ain't right comfortable, is it?” 

Finding their way to the bedroom without tripping over anything else, Andy lit the candle in the lantern on the bedside table, a left over from before he got the generator running reliably. 

With their wet clothes left in a pile on the floor, they climbed onto the bed. It still wasn't Hollywood romance perfect, Andy thought, but the ancient cottage, the flickering candlelight and them safe and warm inside from the storm raging overhead, would, he hoped, be more memorable that his own first time; a drunken fumble on a friend's sofa after spending the evening celebrating not failing his A-levels. 

“So are we going to do it now?” Tom asked, eagerly, moving closer to him.“I was thinking we do what you liked best and we can see if I like it too?” 

“I don't know,” Andy said doubtfully, torn between what he'd like and making tonight as good for Tom as he could. Giving him a blowjob would work, but what could Tom do back? He didn't think Tom would go for it being a one way thing. Nor did it seem fair to expect him to return the favour, not when his own first experience of that had been stunningly awkward and embarrassing for both parties as they'd lasted about ten seconds and he'd nearly ended up being sick. Asking him to just use his hand ran the risk of making Tom feel like he didn't trust him to do anything else right. The last thing he wanted to happen tonight was to hurt his feelings.

The best solution was to get Tom to fuck him, Andy decided, feeling the flex of muscles in Tom's thigh, where it was pressed against his. Most young men's expectation was that sex, when they finally got some, was going to involve part of their anatomy going into somebody else and fun things happening all round. It was probably fair to assume, Andy thought, that Tom's would be too. It had nothing to do with the fantasy of Tom, with all that lean, hard muscle from a life on the move and weeks of hard physical work, screwing him through the mattress that had been the subject of a couple of very pleasurable dreams. Not at all. 

“Well what's the other choice?” Tom said when he hadn't answered, sounding rather frustrated. “Try something you don't like and see if I do? 'cause that sounds right daft.”

Put that way it really was, Andy though as he laughed and rolled on top of him, kissing him. “I want you to have sex with me.”

“I know that, but how do you want...Oh you mean back there,” Tom said flushing slightly and running his hand down Andy's back. 

Relief that he wasn't about to have to explain the concept of anal sex to Tom, really didn't cover it, Andy thought, as he nodded. 

“I looked it up you know, after I pretended to be Hal's boyfriend. It got me thinkin' about things, about what kind of things people did, if they were both men and...” Tom said, face flushing even more. “There were videos an' everything. But I never had the sound on, 'cause I didn't want Annie to hear and come in and see me, well you know, so I don't know if I missed owt important.” 

“That's nice, thinking of doing it, of looking it up I mean,” Andy said, the idea of Tom who was so easily embarrassed by anything to do with sex actually looking at porn, leaving him both flustered, and if possible, even more turned on. Glad to have a distraction, Andy rolled off him to locate condoms and lube in the bedside cupboard.

Handing Tom the condoms, Andy took a few moments to work some lube into himself. He'd get Tom to do it some other time he told himself, as right now if it were Tom doing it he doubted he'd be able to hold back long enough until he was inside him. Then, taking pity on Tom who'd managed to mangle the foil packet on the first condom he'd tried to open, got one open for him. 

“Let me,” Andy said, removing it from the foil. Received a relief nod and smile from Tom, he'd leant forwards and kissed him, while carefully rolling it on. 

“How do you want me to do it?” Tom asked, managing to sound eager and self-conscious at the same time, once Andy had added some extra lube to the condom. 

“It's probably best if I kneel on the bed with you behind me,” Andy said. They could try something more bendy once they were a bit more familiar which what they liked and his ribs were fully healed, he decided, getting into position. Not that his ribs were really giving him any trouble now, but leaving it another week or two before really pushing them wouldn't be a bad idea. 

“Right then, here goes,” Tom said moving behind him. Steadying himself with one hand against Andy's hip and the other holding the end of condom in place, he thrust in hard. 

It was too much, too fast and Andy gasped, eyes watering.“Tom, stop a minute.” 

Tom froze and rubbed his hand across Andy's back. “Did I do it wrong?” he asked, sounding scared. “I've not hurt you have I? Do you want me to try it again or something?”

Andy closed his eyes and took a deep breath, willing his body to adjust to the feeling of Tom inside him. It had been a long time since he'd last done this and his body was telling him a little more prep might not have been a bad idea. The desire for Tom was still there though and with the discomfort thankfully rapidly starting to fade, Andy said, “I'm okay. It was just a bit too quick, that's all.” 

“Are you sure I didn't hurt you?” Tom asked again, voice sounding strained from holding back. “I don't wanna hurt you.”

“I'm alright.” Andy took another breath, then taking hold of Tom's hand which had been on his back brought it round to his cock. Curling his fingers over Tom's, he said, “Just move with me for now, you'll know when I can take more.” 

Tom leant forwards and kissed his back. “Alright, just tell me if I start getting it wrong again.”

What Tom lacked in experience he more than made up for in enthusiasm, strength and stamina, Andy thought a few minutes later as he twisted his fingers into the bed covers, seeking purchase. He was going to feel it in the morning he was sure, his thigh and stomach muscles were already starting to protest from the strain, but he felt so high on life he couldn't bring himself to care. They were past the point where discomfort was registering, everything was sensation, the need for harder, faster and more, oh hell yes more, overwhelming everything else. 

Desperate to come, Andy pushed back against him, until his knee slipped on the covers. The change of angle, the shift of sensations was enough to push him over the edge. Panting and trembling from exertion, Andy let himself topple forwards on the bed, as he shuddered through his climax. Behind him Tom's movements became erratically until he came as well, fingers digging into his hips, teeth biting into his shoulder hard enough to bruise.

Breathless, sticky and feeling pleasantly well used, Andy lay still enjoying the closeness of having Tom draped across his back, the rush of his breath against his neck and the tickle of the wet, sloppy kisses he was planting across his shoulders. 

There was a slight twinge of discomfort when Tom pulled out so he could dispose of the condom, but all in all, Andy decided as he rolled over so that he could see Tom again, it had been a pretty spectacular night. 

“That were amazin'” Tom said lying back down, facing him. Propping himself up on one elbow, looked at him with tired, happy smile on his face. “I'm so glad I waited until it were with you.” 

There wasn't anything Andy found he could say to that. Certainly nothing that wasn't going to end up being ridiculously sappy or emotional, so he pulled him close and kissed him instead, letting it convey more than he could ever put into words about just how much he'd come to love him.

 

TBC Wednesday 2/10


	18. Chapter 18

Bright morning sunlight was already streaming in through the window when Tom woke. Beside him in bed Andy was still asleep, his head tipped back slightly on the pillows, snoring softly, the bed covers pushed down to barely cover his hips

Tom looked at him and smiled. He'd had sex. Actual real sex with Andy and it had been brilliant. It hadn't been exactly like he'd thought it would be, the videos hadn't been all that accurate in the end, but he supposed that was because they were sort of like films. It was like how they got werewolves wrong in just about all of them. It had been embarrassing looking at the videos at first, but with all the people in them being men he'd eventually decided it was okay. His dad had told him not to look at magazines or things with women with little or nothing on in them, that those sort of magazines or film were degrading towards women and reading them was agreeing that things like that was acceptable. He'd never said anything about men being naked in things, so in the end he'd come to the conclusion that it was probably alright to look at those. 

He could probably have managed without watching them, Tom thought, but it had been useful in that he hadn't to ask what Andy had meant about certain things. There were probably still going to be load of things to find out, but he suspected that they'd have a great time doing it. Because knowing that he could make Andy feel as good as he had last night was a fantastic feeling and one that he wanted them both to feel again. That Andy seemed to want the same for him gave him a warm feeling inside. 

Still smiling and feeling like that he might never stop, Tom slipped out of the bedroom. He'd get them some breakfast and them he'd ask Andy is they could try it the other way round. 

 

"Someone's in a very good mood this morning."

Putting down the kettle on the top of the range, Tom turned to see Andy standing in the bedroom doorway, wearing nothing apart from pyjama bottoms. 

"After last night I think I'm gonna be in a good mood forever," Tom said, happily. "You want tea or coffee?” 

"Coffee or I'm going to fall asleep again," Andy replied. Yawning and rubbing a hand through his hair, he went over to the table and sat down. 

The slight noise, a mix of discomfort and relief, Andy had made didn't escape Tom, and he felt concern slipping in. What if Andy had only pretended to have enjoyed last nice? What if his ribs were hurting again? The whole thing had been pretty energetic. Feeling like he should have asked the question the previous night, before they fell asleep, Tom said,"I weren't too rough, were I?" 

“Not really. My legs are the worse of it, and they'll be fine once I've walked around for a bit,” Andy said sounding unconcerned. "I'm just not used to kneeling like that, but hopefully that's going to...”

What Andy was saying faded to a background noise as Tom caught sight of his shoulder. High up on it, near to where it met his neck was a bruise - a bruise that could only have come from a bite. He swallowed hard, guilt and disgust at himself threatening to overwhelm him. How could he have allowed the wolf get into something that should have been private between just the two of them? And worse how could he have not realised until now what he'd done? "I bit you," Tom said faintly, horrified at what he'd done. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't…"

"Hey, it's okay. It'll be gone in a few days," Andy said putting his hand over Tom's. "We can all get bit carried away sometimes. It's natural."

"It is?" Tom said doubtfully, half convinced that Andy was only saying it to make him feel better. He didn't want to think that about him, that Andy would lie to him, because that thought always ended up being followed these days by the suspicion that they were tricking him about other things, that they were just using him. “'Cause I feel like I've messed everything up. You were so nice to me and I've hurt you, and I'm so sorry, an'...” 

"Will you stop apologising?" Andy said, twisting round in the chair to look at him. "Last night was perfect, you were perfect."

"But you're sore. That can't be right,” Tom protested. The certainty, the honesty in Andy's voice had been worse in a way that if there had been doubt there. It meant there was only one liar in their relationship and that was him. 

"Sometimes it can be. Sometime rough can be good, if you're both in the mood for it,” Andy said, sounding slightly embarrassed now. “Look I could have suggested that we tried a different position or I could have taken more time to get ready, but I wanted you last night, I wanted what we did.” He smiled, open and honest. “I've got no regrets, well none apart from wishing I'd asked you weeks ago.”

“But you would say if I were being a bit rough, wouldn't yer?” Tom said, . “I don't wanna hurt you. I'd hate that.”

“Of course I'd tell you,” Andy said, sounding surprised that he'd think that he wouldn't. “And I know that you'd listen, because you'd never do it on purpose.” He stopped, gave Tom's hands a squeeze and then asked, “Now are you going to tell me what's wrong?”

I am, Tom thought miserably. He knew he should tell Andy about it, about what he was, but the words caught in his throat. He'd lose him if he told him the truth. There was a reason things like him had to hide what they were, why they had to live their entire life as a lie and that was survival. What Cutler had done, what he'd had tricked him into, had shown him that the world wasn't ready for what he was and maybe it never would be. They'd be hunted, imprisoned, experimented and killed all out of fear. And who wouldn't be afraid, Tom thought bitterly. He was monster as far as any normal person was concerned. Even the vampires saw werewolves less than normal people. “It's nothin,'” Tom said, pulling his hand away and looking down, scared for a moment that he might just cry at the unfairness of it all. 

“Tom?”

“Guess I'm just a bit weird about biting and scratching and all that,” Tom said, rubbing the top of the scars where they curled across the top of his shoulder and hoping that Andy would accept that as an answer. It was true to some extent, but it was such a tiny part of the truth that it still felt like a lie. He turned away too ashamed to look Andy in the eye. 

“Your sca...” Andy stopped, then swore under his breathe at what he obviously perceived to be his own thoughtlessness. “I should have realised.” 

“You weren't to know," Tom said, moving away and trying to distract himself with making then a drink. "It don't matter. It's just me bein' daft."

Andy got up and followed him over to the range, where Tom had started to get them some tea. Putting his arms round him, he kissed the back of his neck. "It matters to me. You've listened to me ramble on about things when everything is getting me down. And I'd be a pretty crap boyfriend if I didn't care about you."

The teaspoon and the sugar that Tom had been about to put into his mug fell to the floor as he twisted round in Andy's arms. “Is that what we are? Boyfriends?”

“If you want us to be, I mean I want it,” Andy said starting to sound flustered. “But its got to be both of us wanting it. You don't have to, if you don't want to. So don't feel like you have to if you're not ready for that.”

Although Tom knew that having sex someone didn't automatically mean you were in a relationship with that person, he wasn't comfortable with the idea for himself and certainly he didn't want that to be the case with Andy. “Of course I do,” he said, wrapping his arms about him and leaning up for a kiss. “It's all I want.”

Andy kissed him, laughing a little as he did, his hands drifting lower. “Apparently it's not the only thing though.” 

Tom knew he'd gone red again, but he didn't care. Pressing himself closers against Andy he said, “I ain't the only one.”

 

Breakfast eventually happened and Tom went out to pack up his tent and try to salvage the wet and muddy contents. The storm had cleared the air and while it was another warm, sunny day it wasn't the hot, sticky humidity of the previous one. So after almost talking himself out of it, in favour of just spending the day in bed, Tom had asked Andy whether he'd like to go to a swim in the reservoir with him. 

He'd been less than keen on the idea, pointing out just how many accidental drownings happened from things like that, but they'd come to a compromise in the end. They walk down to where Tom had suggested they'd have a swim and have a picnic instead. 

Ignoring the paths and walking over the fields and moorland to Coed Y Foel and then making their way down the rocky slopes would have been the most direct route, but heading through Elan village, picking up a few bits at the small corner shop, and then following the Elan river to where it joined the Caban Coch reservoir was easier and had just as good views.

From the massive dam at the lowest end of the Cabon Coch reservoir they followed the path that ran along the banks to where the wide sweep of the stone arched bridge separated the Caban Coch and Garreg Ddu reservoirs. It was more than just a bridge though, Tom knew from looking at the information in the Elan Valley park visitors centre, it was also the point where the water was fed into a system of underground pipes channels where it would, using nothing more than the power of gravity, start its long journey to provide water for Birmingham and other urban centres in the Midlands. The scale of it was mindboggling, Tom thought as they approached the bridge. He liked to think that his dad, being as he'd been a surveyor before the vampires had got him for the first time, would have been impressed with it too. He wished that he'd know about that part of his life before he'd died. Being able to go somewhere that his dad had helped make, he thought, would have helped on those days were his dad felt so far away. 

Stopping at the small, copper domed building on the Elan Valley side of the bridge, Andy looked out over the water, “Wow. You know I had no idea about this place.” 

“You'd never even had a bit of a look around?” Tom asked, surprised that Andy hadn't explored even a little bit. It wasn't like the bridge was that remote, it carried a road across it, giving people access to the small church which had been rebuilt there after the valley had been flooded during the creation of the reservoirs. 

“Not really that much of an outdoors sort of person,” Andy said, shaking his head. “Never really thought I'd live anywhere other than the city, you know. I'd not been living out here that long before you found me, only about a month or so.”

“Well if you want I can show you all round here. I've got a fair idea of where everything is out here now. We can stop on the other side of the bridge,” Tom said, starting to cross it. “It's easier to get down to the water on the Claerwen side and we can decide whether we want to have a bit of an explore late on.” 

“Wait a minute,” Andy said, getting his phone out of his pocket. A new one picked up on their last trip into Rhayader as a proper replacement for the one smashed a few weeks earlier. After scrolling through the settings for a few moments, he stood it on the wall and then hurried back to Tom.   
Putting his arm around him, he said, “Smile”

Tom had barely had time to stop looking surprised when the camera gave a small click and Andy hurried back to get it. 

“Can I have a look?” Tom asked, when Andy returned with the phone. 

“Sure.” Andy turned the mobile so that Tom could see. 

The screen on the back of the phone showed them standing together. Andy with his arm around him, smiling, the wind blowing his hair in all directions as he'd not had it cut for a while, and him looking at Andy surprised and happy rather than at the camera. 

“Its got pretty good resolution, not sure how well it'll do inside or if it was dark, but 

“It's great. Do you think you could print it?” Tom asked. It probably wasn't the time to admit that he couldn't ever remember having his photograph taken before, he decided. It was, most likely, just a bit too weird to drop into conversation and not expect Andy to want to know why. 

“Okay, I need to see if it works with the printer,” Andy said, putting the mobile back in its case. Then added, sound pleased, “It's got pictbridge, so no more hunting for the right cable.” 

Tom nodded. He was getting used to all the gadgets, but sometimes he found it was easier just to smile and nod rather than admit that he wasn't always entirely sure what they were talking about. It had been easier with Hal like that; he'd pretty much cut himself of from the world in the nineteen fifties. 

Once they'd crossed the bridge and found a good place to stop, Tom took the picnic blanket out of the bag and spread it on the ground. If inside the house, with its furniture and slowly growing amount of technology was where Andy was most at home, then out here was where Tom felt like he belonged. Away from the complexities of the world, with the scent of the woodlands behind him, the wide open sky above and the sound of water trickling down the steeply wooded slopes to the side him into the rippling water in front, he could find peace. How much of that was down to the wolf he wasn't sure. It was hard separating the wolf from things, impossible perhaps. There was no part of his life that he remembered from before the wolf, and even if by some miracle he'd remembered those first few months of his life what had a toddler known about the world? Nothing. 

Everything was still so confusing, he thought with a sigh. His dad had never seemed to have any doubts about anything, so that probably couldn't be explained by the wolf. He'd thought he'd feel grown up once he'd had his twenty first birthday, but he hadn't. Since then there'd been his first real job, his first kiss and now his first time having sex and he still didn't feel any different. 

“Something is still wrong, isn't it?” Andy said lying on the picnic blanket, looking up at the sparse white clouds in the otherwise blue sky. “You're not starting to regret last night, are you?”

“No, of course not. It's guess just I thought I'd feel different,” Tom said, lying down on the blanket next to him. He felt silly admitting it, but he trusted Andy not to laugh at him and maybe to even understand. “I dunno, like properly grown up or something. I mean I know I am, but sometimes...I ain't right good at this feelings stuff. I get all confused, but you know that, right?”

“No more so than I do.” Andy rolled over to face him. “Do you know I used to think it was just me who was making it all up as I went along, that everybody else knew what they were doing, that I was going to be found out. Turned out that just everybody thought the same.” Rolling back to stare up at the clouds once more, he sighed. “We were all just running scared.”

It made a lot of sense, Tom thought, it would explain people did things that were strange and confusing. It didn't feel scary to him though, if anything it was a relief, it meant he was like everybody else, just a normal human person making their life up as they went along. It did get better in the end though, Tom thought as he said, “We're not running any more though, are we?” 

“No, I guess we're not,” Andy said as if he was realising it for the first time. He looked out over the water, eyes following the steeply rising wooded slopes to where the bare moorland began. “It's this place, you, me, us together.” Andy turned back and smiled at him. “It feels like this was meant to be. It's home.”

The little farmhouse in the hills and the wide open land around it had come to feel much like home as the van where he'd grown up with his dad and as much or maybe even more so than Honolulu Heights. As, although it felt a bit disloyal to think it, he'd only stayed there because he'd cared about the people there, the old bed and breakfast with its dodgy plumbing and heating and weird decorations hadn't really been more than an building in the end. Tom smiled back at him. “It's our home.” 

“Our home,”Andy repeated, pulling him in closer to kiss him. “Our home together.”

 

TBC – hopefully on Wednesday, 

Note.  
Apologies for the lateness of this part, I don't seem to have had time to do anything much this week at all beyond work and sorting out things that need doing round the house. Normal posting schedule of Sundays and Wednesdays should now resume.


	19. Chapter 19

How they got out of bed most days he wasn't sure, Andy thought with as smile, as he fixed up the battery powered light in the small makeshift extension they had built to house an indoor toilet. They were definitely still in the massively horny, couldn't keep their hands to themselves phase of a new relationship. 

He'd probably had more sex the past few weeks than in the preceding year or two. Finding out what Tom liked, seeing Tom discover new things and finding out new things about himself too was a wonderful, if sometimes pleasantly tiring experience. When you had no interruptions, no work to go to and nothing that needed to be done by a certain time there was definitely the opportunity to explore a lot of possibilities. 

He knew they had fallen behind a bit on his plans for renovating the farm house, but the weather had turned wet and cold almost as soon as autumn had started and showed no sign of letting catch a break. Part of him wanted to say screw opening the farm up as a camp site, they could live on his money, they could shut out the world and they'd be fine by themselves. The other, what he hoped was his more rational side, said that was just fear talking, that becoming hiding away, cutting himself off from friends and family wasn't a sensible coping mechanism and that failing to make plans for the future didn't actually help. He was grateful that most of the time and on most days that part of him was winning. 

With the light fixed in place, Andy sat down on the box containing the tiles for when they eventually finished plastering the room. It amazed him sometimes, in quiet moments like this when there was time to think, just how much his life had changed in the months since his enforced retirement from the police. 

Situational depression and generalised anxiety had been the diagnosis he'd been given at the time. They'd given him the statistics too, one in four people would experience some kind of depression in their life. For some people it was something that was life long while for others it might be a singular episode caused by grief, divorce or loss of a job. They'd explained to him at the time that much of what he was feeling was connected to his service in the police, that if he removed himself from that source of stress, it would be beneficial. The cynical part of him wondered now if they'd just been positioning him to accept the retirement. 

Knowing that he'd never have to return to the police station, never had to see the people who didn't speak to him any more and never have to wonder what the conversations they were having and which stopped as soon as they saw him enter the room were about, had been a relief. He'd still felt horrendously guilty about that relief. Fears, that in moments of objectivity he knew were unfounded, still occasionally crept up on him. Like the worry that if he wasn't out on the beat any more anybody who died or was hurt on what had been his patrol route would still somehow be his fault. Even telling himself that there would be another officer on the route now, that he'd often covered other people routes without feeling they were letting the world down, didn't make him feel any better in those moments. 

There were a lot less bad moments now though than there had been. Here with just Tom and no more pressing concerns than finishing the extension for the indoor toilet before the weather turned even nastier those fears seemed distant, at least most of the time. Not that being in love had solved everything. As while in the good times it felt wonderful, like he was finally getting something in his life right, in the bad ones it meant there was yet another person he was letting down. 

Today, so far at least, was a good day, Andy decided he went back into the living room. 

Tom was sitting at the table reading a letter, a birthday card lying on top of its envelope next to his now cold mug of tea. 

“It's your birthday?” Andy said in surprised. Logically he knew that Tom had to have a birthday, everybody did, whether they chose to celebrate it or not, he'd just not realised that it was today. 

“Not 'til Monday,” Tom said, putting down the letter. “It were just Hal fussing and posting it in plenty of time, either that or he forgot what day it were. Although I reckon Alex must have picked the card, 'cause it don't seem like anything Hal would thought to get.”

“This is the Hal who you lived at the hotel with?” Andy asked, realising that although Tom had talked about his past, it had often been in such general terms that he wasn't always sure just when some of the things happened or where Tom had been at the time. 

“Yeah.” Tom smiled broadly. “He's a hotel manager now. Not the old one we live in neither. The Barry Grand. It's right on the sea front too. I worked there for a bit before...” he fidgeted with the edge of the letter, then added quieter, “before I left.” 

Grand and Barry Island weren't two words that Andy would have put together. Old amusement arcades, tacky kiss me quick hats, pound shops and a popular TV sitcom, yes, but not much else. “It sounds like things are going well for him. He was the one with the...” Andy stopped trying to find something that sounded better than addiction or drug habit, before settling on the rather vague, “the problem.” 

“Yeah, but he says he ain't touched any since I left,” Tom replied proudly. “An' I believe him. He'd said it before an' bin lying, but he were such a knob when he were on it I don't reckon he'd have kept his job if he were.” He turned on to the second page of the letter. “And Alex is living there, not got her door yet.”

Tom sounded like he'd got mixed feelings about that, so Andy doubted something like 'couldn't she nip down B&Q?' would be the right thing to say. “That's good, isn't it?” he said carefully, wondering if it was some kind of slang term that had gone completely over his head. 

“Yeah.” Tom still didn't sound totally sure. He looked down at the letter again and then folded it up and put it in his pocket seeming to have decided that what he said had been rather strange. “I mean it's not like a real door or a it's just...well it's hard to explain, it's sort of a special door and I think only she can see it when she finds it. But it's not weird or anything.” 

“Oh, right,” Andy replied, now even less certain about what Tom was talking about. With the little that Tom had told him about the old hotel that him, Hal, Alex, Annie and apparently a load of other people had lived in, plus the fact that they all seemed to have rather a lot of issues going on in their lives, he wondered if it had either been a hostel or even a squat. Whatever it was he was glad to hear that at least some of Tom's friends were getting on well in life, especially after all that Tom had told him about losing friends and having no family beyond his late father. Hoping to turn the conversation back towards something that he had a chance of understanding, Andy said, "So have you got any plans or ideas for what you'd like for your birthday?"

Looking like he really hadn't actually thought about it until the card had reminded him, Tom said, “No,I mean I 'spose a cake or something from the bakery in town and we have a few drinks. I don't mind really. Ain't like it's a big one this year." 

"Let me know if you get any ideas," Andy said, doubting that Tom would ask him for any thing. Which meant he really needed to think of something himself and Andy freely admitted he was rubbish at buying presents at the best of times, and four days wasn't long to get anything, especially when he had absolutely no idea what to get for him. They'd only been in a relationship for a few weeks, so he didn't want to go too extravagant or expensive as he knew Tom would be all awkward about it and would feel that he needed to do the same when it came round to his birthday. Electronic gadgets weren't really Tom's thing, he'd still not quite managed to get the hang of texting on the very basic mobile he'd eventually bought and most of the rest he didn't really see a point to. Nor did Tom seem to have any favourite bands or films that he could get DVDs of, and he didn't seem to borrow any books from the library in Rhayader, so beyond the ones that Tom had borrowed of his own he didn't know what he'd really be interested in reading. Clothes were a possibility, not that he liked clothes shopping, he didn't, although clothes didn't seem right as the only present, but a couple of thick jumpers might not be a bad idea given how cold the days were getting. 

Taking Tom into Cardiff and letting him have a look round the shopping centres and so that when he saw something that he liked and he could buy it for him was probably the best plan, Andy decided. He could take him out for a meal as well and maybe even meet up with Gwen for a drink. They'd have to go at the weekend though as the last thing he wanted was to run into his mother doing her shopping, which was always done on a Monday. Coming out to her in the middle of a busy shop with half of Cardiff staring at him was a pretty terrifying thought. 

Trying not entirely successfully to sound casual about it, Andy said, “I've been meaning to go into Cardiff for a while as there are a few things that I need to get. Do you fancy coming with me? We could make a weekend of it? Go Saturday morning, stay overnight, maybe go out for a meal, come back on Sunday.”

“Saturday?” Tom said, not sounding remotely enthusiastic about the idea. “I can't, I've got a load of carvings to finish, and I said I'd help out on the Mrs Griffiths from the craft shop on the market selling stuff.” 

“It's only a couple of hours drive,” Andy said, hoping that Tom would agree to a compromise. “We could go after the market has finished. It's done by four, isn't it? I could come into Rhayader and pick you up. We could drive down to Cardiff, find somewhere to stay and get an early start on Sunday.”

“Nah, it's not really my thing,” Tom replied, turning away. “Anyway, I'd better get a start on these.” He pointed to a box of pieces of wood cut into rough rectangles. “I said I've have some house number things done. You should go though, if we need the stuff. I reckon it'll get right hard to get out of this place once the weather get bad.” 

“Well if you're sure,” Andy said disappointed, but not wanting to push it. Especially not as since Tom had politely, but firmly told him the day after they'd started to sleep together that he didn't want to be paid for working on the farm any more and the sale of the wood carvings had become Tom's only source of income. Not that there was anything he needed to pay for as Andy paid all the bills and bought the shopping, but having the money and independence to buy anything else he needed was a good thing as far as Andy was concerned and he wasn't going to do anything to threaten it. 

Perhaps having a day apart might even do them some good. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, not that he wanted there to be much of an absence. There had only been a couple of nights since they'd begun their relationship when they'd not spent the night in the same bed. Both times Tom had been restless for a couple of days before hand and had as evening approached said he was going out for a walk and that walking in the dark cleared his head. He'd worried about him, but both times in the morning Tom had been back at the house when he'd woken up, looking happier than he'd done the previous evening. Walking around in the cold and dark wasn't his own idea of fun or calming, but it seemed to work for Tom so he went along with it. Not wanting Tom to think that he was too disappointed, Andy added, “I should probably call in on my mam, let her know how things are going.” 

“Does she live in Cardiff then?”

Andy nodded. “Yes, and so does David.”

“Who's David?” Tom asked, putting the box down on the table. 

Andy sat down on the sofa, wondering why he'd not told Tom anything about his family until now. “He's my oldest brother,”

“You've got brothers and sisters?” Tom asked, caught somewhere between sad and envious. 

“Just brothers,” Andy replied. It had been a long time since he'd seen them, and even longer since they'd all been together. Between all their jobs it had made it difficult to find a time when they all were in the same county, never mind all in Cardiff. “There's three of them and they're all a fair bit older than me, David will be fifty next year. Then there's James, he's out on HMS Montrose at the moment, and there's Simon who lives over in Cowbridge. I don't really see them that much any more. Never really were that close I guess.” 

“Oh, right,” Tom said, not sounding like he really understood why. “Well I guess I'll meet them all one day, won't I?”

That was a whole conversation that he didn't want to get into right now, so Andy just nodded and said, “Of course.”

Seemingly satisfied with that answer, Tom gave him a happy smile and turned back to his carvings. 

It could work, Andy told himself as he leant back on the sofa and closed his eyes. He'd have to tell his family about Tom eventually. He wanted Tom in his life and he could hardly hide him and their relationship from them forever, so he'd have to tell them the truth. That while he'd dated women, there had been men too and now that he'd found Tom he couldn't imagine being with anyone else. He loved him, nothing was going to change that, so they would just have to get used to the idea.

It was far easier said that done though, especially given what he knew his mother's feeling to be on the matter. Although she was contrary enough about some issues that knowing for certain exactly how she'd react was an impossibility. The fact that Christmas was just six weeks away did give him one idea on how to start getting them used to the idea. He knew his mum would have the inevitable questions about what he was doing to for Christmas and although part of him wanted to tell her that he'd made plans, taking Tom with him and letting her see what a nice person he was was probably a better idea. 

Better for who? He thought guiltily. Because that plan would mean lying to her and making Tom complicit in that lie. Yet what was the alternative? Tell her with Tom there and risk him being on the end of the kind of insults and truly hurtful things that he knew she was capable of saying? No, he do it later once he was home and safe on the farm with Tom then he phone her. Even that idea twisted uncomfortably in his chest. Perhaps it would be better if he wrote her a letter, he told himself, he could get down on paper what he had to say clearly and he'd get it in the post before he could talk himself out of doing it. But then there would be the wait to find out if she was still talking to him, would she write back? Or phone him? Or would she just blank him from then on. What about his brothers? Should he tell them first or wait and risk them finding it out from his mother? He didn't want them to think that he didn't want to tell them. Maybe he should write the letter out for each of them and post them all at the same time. But then what if the postman lost one of them? Then whoever didn't get once would think they were being snubbed by him. What about James? If he was still on a tour of duty should he post his first, to make sure it got to him at the same time. How much earlier would he need to make it? 

Andy opened his eyes, trying to find something to distract himself with. He wasn't going to think about it, because otherwise he'd get himself in such as state that Tom would notice and then what? Tell him that he'd kept their relationship a secret from everybody he knew so far? Risk Tom thinking he was ashamed of him when nothing could be further from the truth? 

He looked at Tom was now marking up the wooden blanks for house name and number plates ready for carving. Kind, understanding, unbelievably nice Tom, who'd been through so much, but still cared so much about everybody and everything and made his life better just by being in it. For him, Andy decided he could do anything, and if that meant risking his relationship with his family then he was, for the first time in his life ready to risk it. 

TBC aiming for Wednesday 16, if not Sunday 20th at latest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes.   
> With regards to Andy's depression/anxiety in this fic I wanted to say that this isn't going to be one of those 'love cures all' fics or the ones where depression is portrayed as something that is 100% permanent and that once you've become depressed there is absolutely no way out of it other than a life time of medication – they are opposite ends of a spectrum with a myriad of variations in between. So for the purposes of this story Andy still has problems, primarily with anxiety, but he's working on coping strategies and he is starting to get on with living his life again. Information used albeit briefly in this part about situational versus clinical depression and the one in four statistic is taken from a variety of mental health organisations websites. 
> 
> This is now going AU for Hal and Alex in Being Human portion of the story, as their stories are going back in Barry Island without Tom there, and as such the whole Captain Hatch storyline would have failed to have happened, as it needed all three of them to be there. What actually happens instead I've yet to decided as it doesn't immediately impact on this story as yet. 
> 
> Also apologies for the lateness of this, I'd wrote a load of it and then realised that Tom already knew about Andy's mum and had to rewrite some of this.


	20. Chapter 20

The farmers market had tailed off around half past two and Tom felt more than a little guilty about having given Andy that as an excuse as to why he couldn't go with him to Cardiff. The truth though, that in about four an a half hours time he'd be decidedly hairy and running across the moorland chasing sheep and rabbits, really hadn't been an option. 

It was rotten timing for a full moon, Tom thought as he walked back through Rhayader. Although he was glad that he hadn't been on his birthday, that really would have been rubbish. He'd tell Andy soon, he told himself, he'd just get Christmas out of the way first, as with next full moon after tonight being just a couple of weeks before it didn't seem fair to spring it on him then. Before the January full moon though, before the weather got really, really bad he tell him, he definitely do it then. 

There was a definite autumnal feel now, the cool, damp air scented with wood smoke, newly ploughed fields, mouldering leaves and fungi. The sounds had changed too, bird song was muted now and the animals that would sleep the winter away were scurrying about trying to eat enough to see them through hibernation, while those that didn't were hoarding nuts and berries. 

The unmistakable stink of vampire mingling with the smells of autumn was startling and Tom stopped and looked around. The scent was faint and if the full moon hadn't been just a few hours away Tom was sure he would have missed it. Strange and familiar at the same time it was definitely the same unidentified vampire's scent that he'd come across back on his first visit into Rhayader months earlier. He'd not detected even a trace of vampire since that day and Tom regretted the fact that he no longer carried a stake tucked inside his coat as routine – it had seemed unnecessary and would have raised questions from Andy that he was in no way ready to answer. 

He looked at his watch. There was plenty of time to check out the trail and get out to somewhere remote to transform. If he did run into the vampire he would give them a choice, leave Rhayader, never come back and tell its friends that no vampire would ever be welcome there or if they weren't inclined to take the warning then he could improving a stake and that would be that. Either way, Rhayader would be vampire free. 

Rhayader on a damp November afternoon was nearly deserted once you got away from the three main shopping streets and Tom had little trouble following the trail to the same pub car park that it had ended in before. This time the car park wasn't deserted. Parked on the far side of it was a works van, building trade by the things piled into the back of it, the two seats in the front were unoccupied and Tom turned his attention to the other vehicle. 

Parked by the wall that ran at the edge of the car park, spotting potentially pissed patrons from wandering down and falling into the river Wye, was a vintage Triumph motorbike. Sitting on the wall next to it, dressed in equally vintage looking biker leathers was a woman. Smoking a cigarette and talking on a mobile phone, her long blonde hair, blowing in the wind, she was doing a very good impression of alluring bad girl. All Tom could see though was vampire. 

Noticing him, she quickly ended her phone call and then, sticking her fingers in her mouth she whistled to him. When Tom didn't move, she clicked her fingers instead. “Here boy. I thought dogs had good hearing.”

“I can hear yer,” Tom said walking over to her. “I can smell yer an' all.” 

“Really?” She took a drag on her cigarette, then leaning towards him, blew the smoke in his face. “Because all I smell is wet dog.” She wrinkled her nose. “And it's disgusting.”

“You ain't wanted here,” Tom said, knowing that she was trying to get a reaction out of him. You get angry, you get careless, his dad had warned him. You're better than them, he'd said, all of them. Never forget it. 

“You think the people here would want you around if they knew what you are?” She flicked ash at him. “They are nothing but sheep, cattle, and you know what creatures like that think of wolves, don't you?”

It was too close to his own fears for comfort and Tom glared at her, defiant hoping that she wouldn't realise. Never let a vampire into your head. That had been another of his dad's pieces of advice, along with things like 'be nice, polite and always have the material to make a bomb.' Part of him wanted to just call her a bad name, but his dad hadn't like that, especially not about ladies, even vampire ones. So he decided to try and stare her down. “You lot only call us wolves when you know you've lost the argument. 'cause if you'd said dogs like you normally do then I could've said that people like dogs, even sheep like sheep dogs. So I know you ain't right.”

She laughed, mocking more than amused. “You've got a lot to say for yourself, haven't you?” Getting down from the wall she moved to stand uncomfortably close to him. “Are you trying to impress me? Is that it? Is the little puppy dog lonely?”

Tom stepped back. “My dad warned me about people like you.”

“What women who know their own mind?”

“No.” Tom took another step back. “Vampires. You'll do anything to get your own way. So I'll tell yer, I ain't interested, and even if you weren't a blood sucking vampire, I've got a boyfriend, so you're right out of luck.”

She stared at him for a moment and then started laughing. “Brings a whole new meaning to doggy style. Honestly though pup, I wouldn't do you if you were the last creature on Earth.” She smiled showing fangs this time. “We all play a look. You pretend to be this little helpless puppy dog, all big eyes and baggy clothes, but I know that you could break my neck and stake me without feeling the tiniest bit of guilt.” She took another drag on her cigarette, the white paper burning down to near the orange filter end. “I give sad, pathetic guys the woman of their wet little fantasies for one night. And if they don't like the price...”She shrugged. “Well I've never had one that complained.”

Tom looked at the tree overhanging the edge of the car park. He was fairly sure that he could have broken off a branch and staked her before she had time to start the bike and get away. The reappearance of the two men from the works van however prevented that really being an option. The average normal person probably wouldn't stand idly by while a scruffy bloke shoved a lump of tree through a pretty lady or anyone else for that matter. 

“I wouldn't try it,” she said picking up her crash helmet from where it had been hung on the handlebars of the bike. “You see those apes over there?” She nodded towards where the two men were leant against the side of their van eating chips out greasy paper wrappers. “Best case scenario for you is I knock you on your arse and they laugh at you. At worse, well worse for you any way, they decided I need rescuing, you get the shit kicked out of you. Maybe you end up in hospital. You transform. There'd be bits of doctors and nurse everywhere.” Her eyes turned black and she leant in close to him. “Every way this plays out you lose, dog boy, got it?”

She was right, as much as he hated to admit it. “I could've staked you though, you just know that. You where the one who got lucky with them being there, not me. I've killed more vampire than you've killed werewolves, I'll bet you that for nowt.”

She opened her mouth to say something, then stopped. A moment later she laughed. “A little lost wolf cub in Wales. You're Mad Dog McNair's boy, aren't you?”

“Don't you even say his name!” Tom snapped. 

“Yappy little thing, aren't you?” she said putting her crash helmet on. “All I was going to say was I was impressed by him. I saw him fight a couple of times. It must have been twenty years apart. Won both times. Do you know how rare it is for a wolf to live that long?”

“Stop it!” Tom snapped again, his resolve not to stake her and deal with the consequences later slipping. “Just stop it.”

“What is it normally? Two or three years from first transformation until...” she drew a finger across her throat. “I never understood how you people could let your whole lives fall apart because of six hours a month. It's pathetic really, when you think about it.” 

“Do you really want to fight that much?” Tom said taking off his backpack that contained the few carvings that he'd not sold at the market. “'Cause if you do, we can find somewhere and it's only gonna be me leaving the place.”

She looked over his shoulder. “It's time I was going. I've got better things to be doing that listen to you yap and whine.” 

Tom turned to see the two men from the van walking over to them. 

She revved the bike's engine. “Maybe I'll see you around some time. See if there's as much fight in the pup as the old dog.” Snapping the visor closed, she gave the one more rev of the engine before roaring out of the car park. 

“She was way out of your league,” said the older of the two men in a heavy Welsh accent, before eating another one of his chips. 

“I weren't interested in her like that,” Tom said wishing he'd thought to get her name or the number plate of her bike. He have to ask Hal about her, find out if she was mixed up in dog fights as anything more than an avid spectator. 

“Didn't look like that to me,” the younger of the two workmen said, “Looked like yous were getting right pissed off because she weren't putting out.”

“I weren't,” Tom said irritably, wanting to get away before he said something stupid. “I told her as much. I've got a boyfriend an'...”

The younger one started laughing then nudged his workmate with his elbow. “It'd bin like a fish with a bicycle that, if she'd said yes. Still mate, leaves more for us normal blokes.”

“I'm going home,” Tom said picking up his bag, not wanting them to see how much what they had said hurt. “You should just be glad she's gone. She'd have sucked you dry and left yer for dead, an' that would've be if you were lucky.”

“She could've sucked me any time.” Tom heard the young workman say, followed by his friend laughing and playfully punching on on the arm. “Too right, boyo. Now get them chips down you. That driveway ain't going to pave itself.” 

Once he was round the corner and out of sight of them, Tom broke into a run, wanting to put as much distance between himself and them as possible. 

Out of breath, heart pounding, Tom only stopped once he was on the steeply rising track that lead back up to Cwm Elan Farm. Angry now as much at himself and the men and the vampire, Tom sat down on the low wall that ran along the edge of the narrow road. 

He could have... no, should have, he thought angry at his own weakness, he should have called him on them making fun of him and Andy being together. They'd had no right to do that to him or to anyone. Yet the first thing that had come into his head when they had called themselves normal was that he couldn't challenge them, that he had no right to reply that he was – being a werewolf meant he had lost that right a very long time ago. 

Tom leant forward, elbows resting on his knees, hands tight to his head, feeling the thick scar that ran across his scalp. The vampire woman, whoever she'd been had been right - all people would see was a monster. It was why she'd also been right about most wolves not living beyond a couple of years from their first transformation. They hit the same spiral that Larry had, that his dad had before he'd come into his life. 

It was different for him, Tom told himself. He'd not really had a life before he'd become a werewolf, he had no memory of what he'd lost so it shouldn't matter. He looked up and out at the valley, the misty tree covered slopes, the dismal afternoon blurring as his eyes began to sting. 

Closing his eyes, Tom let his other wolf-heightened scenes take over, letting them connect him back to the land. He was part of it, part of the ancient landscape, he wasn't wrong, he was more a part of the place than those would fear him because of what he was. Opening them again, he got up and without a second look back down the valley to Rhayader, Tom continued on his way back to the farm. 

The house felt empty without Andy there and Tom paused only to swap his bag from the market with one he'd packed earlier that day with spare clothes and a couple of blankets before leaving again. 

Travelling at a slow jog, a compromise between the distance and time to cover it he had available, Tom followed the paths away from the farm, down past the dam at Caban Coch and out to the bleak and empty landscape of the Claerwen valley on the other side of the reservoirs. 

There was already frost forming on the ground and he climbed higher onto the slopes above Claerwen, the withered grass crunching in the dark underfoot, while the trickling streams were still, the water turned to ice on the where they once ran down the still hillsides. The world was silent apart from the occasional bleat of a sheep somewhere in the valley below, everything fading to muted greys as the sun dipped below the horizon. 

Striping off when temperatures where hovering around zero was never any fun, Tom thought as he shoved his clothes into his bag. He'd hung on as long as he could though, the pain of the transformation combined with the cold would have made his fingers too clumsy and numb to manage zips of buttons if he'd waited much longer. The little hollow in the hills barely gave any protection from the weather, but with the transformation already well underway, there was little more he could do that bear it the best he could. With one of the blankets he'd brought with him spread out on the frozen ground, Tom covered himself with the second, before curling into a ball in an attempt to minimise the pain and cold seeping into every part of him. 

The sky had cleared as the temperature had continued to drop and as the bright, silvery light glinted on the frosty ground as the moon, full and bright rose. Under the blanket the wolf stirred, its breath clouds of steam in the chill air. Turning its shaggy head to the moon it howled, then scented the air, ready for the hunt.


	21. Chapter 21

It had seemed like such a good idea back at the farmhouse. Just go into Cardiff have a wander round the shops, find something for Tom’s birthday and then meet up with Gwen for a coffee and a chat so he reassure her that he really was getting on alright now. But standing outside a cafe, waiting for Gwen, Andy could feel his heart start to beat faster. Cardiff’s main shopping area seemed too busy and too loud, people starting the pre-Christmas rush now that Halloween and Bonfire Night had been and gone. 

He looked around, wondering if people were staring at him. He’d only be there a couple of minutes, but it felt like he’d been standing there all day. Every passing second was another opportunity for somebody he once knew to spot him, to come over to him and ask him questions he couldn’t answer. Or worse what if he saw one of his old colleagues out on patrol or DCI Blanchard? 

Andy was just about to go inside to wait, hoping that if he got a coffee and sat in the corner nobody would randomly start talking to him or bothering him, when he saw Gwen pushing a buggy through the crowd towards him. 

“Hello stranger,” she said reaching him, and then giving him a hug. 

Surprised, Andy froze for a moment before returning it. “Stranger yourself. Never thought I'd see the day. Gwen Cooper, mummy.”

Gwen laughed. “I never did either. It was always Rhys that was the family one.” She smiled and looked at Ceri who was chewing on the ear of a toy rabbit. “I wouldn't change it though, not for anything.”

 

“Do you want to go inside?” Andy asked, “Looks like little ones hungry.”

“Teething,” Gwen replied. “She's got two top teeth and one bottom. Soon to be two, isn't it, Ceri?” 

Ceri gurgled and waved the rabbit in the air for a moment before resuming chewing it. 

Holding the door so Gwen could push the buggy into the cafe, Andy wondered why he'd held of from doing this for so long. It felt like old times, back when they'd been on the beat together, the easy conversation like they'd not spent months without seeing each other. 

“So how are things?” Andy asked once they had sat down with their drinks. 

“Good,” Gwen replied. “Tiring, but good. Between Ceri and...” she looked around then said quietly “Torchwood I have no idea when I last got a proper night's sleep, but I wouldn't trade it, any of it, for the world.”

“You're still running it on your own?”

Gwen nodded, drinking her coffee. “You have no idea how much I need this stuff to stay awake these days. “There's a couple of people Jack knew who help out, I've met one of them before, but I don't like asking too much as she lost her husband recently. Other than than that there there's a bloke who's parents got killed these old cinema film characters that might come and work for us.”

How you got killed by characters in a film Andy had no idea and given that it would come with a Torchwood level of weird attached to it he decided that he was probably better of not knowing if he ever wanted to watch a film again. 

 

“I came to get a birthday present for Tom. Not really had much luck yet. I'm just not sure what to get him.” 

Gwen gave him a disbelieving look.“You've driven for a couple of hours to get a birthday present for somebody who just works for you?”

“About that,” Andy said putting his coffee down, feeling horribly nervous again, despite the fact he was almost certain Gwen that will be totally fine with what he's about to say. “You were right, when you called, what you said about Tom and me. I mean not when you called, it was about a month later, but well...yes. Me and Tom.”

“Oh Andy, that's brilliant,” Gwen said genuinely happy for him. 

“You're not angry?”

“Why would I be?” Gwen said, still smiling. “One of my oldest friends tells me he's in love, I'm going to be happy for him. There's been too much bad news lately.”

Andy nodded feeling almost giddy with relief that Gwen hadn't asked him anything along the lines of 'so when did you realise you were gay?' Not least because wasn't actually gay, as even if he settled down with Tom forever, an idea that did wonderful, funny things to his insides whenever he thought about it, it didn't change the fact that he'd fancied women, dated them and still found them sexually attractive, and also because nobody ever asked anyone when they decided to be straight. 

“So what's he like?” Gwen asked, picking Ceri out of her buggy and sitting her on her lap. 

“He's the nicest guy I've ever met, he's kind and funny, and for some reason he loves me.” Andy smiled, wondering how Tom was getting on at the farmers market. Hopefully well enough that it was worth the walk into Rhayader. Taking out his phone, Andy flicked through the photos on it until he found the one of him and Tom on the bridge between the reservoirs. He turned the phone round so Gwen could see. “That's back in the summer, a couple of miles from the farm.”

“Wow he's short,” Gwen said before she could stop herself. “And young.” 

“He'll be twenty two on Monday and he's about as tall as you,” Andy said defensively. The photo did make Tom look even shorter than he actually was. With him leaning in Tom's head was only level with his shoulder. 

“That's still pretty short for a bloke. Still best things come in small packages, they say.” There was laughter in her eyes as she added, “Although there's one package I think we'd both prefer to be a decent size on our men.”

“Gwen!” Andy said uncertain whether to be more shocked or amused. In the end he settled on relieved. Gwen was still the same old Gwen she'd been when she could make the entire break room blush. 

“You're looking happier than I've seen you in ages,” Gwen said, taking a tub of banana slices out of a bag on the back of the buggy for Ceri. “Love suits you.”

“I don't think I've ever fell so hard for anyone,” Andy admitted. There had been people who'd come close. If Gwen had said yes all those years ago when they'd both been on the force just a couple of months then who knew how their lives would have turned out. There had been a man as well, but the strain on him being firmly in the closet with his friends and family had put such a strain on their relationship that after four months he'd given him the choice of come out or break up. Poor Stuart hadn't deserved to be treated as just a dirty secret, and now looking back at it he wonders how the other man had put up with his demands for secrecy for as long as he did. 

“Earth calling, Andy,” Gwen said, leaning in a little closer to him. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, just thinking.” He looked up and managed a smile. “I can't imaging going back to living without him, you know. He's there when I need him, he knows all about what happened, about why I left.”

Gwen looked at him shocked. “You told him about...you know...aliens?”

Andy shook his head. “Not those, he'd really think I'd lost it. I meant leaving the police.” He curled his hands around his mug. It was still a little too hot for comfort, but it helped keep him in the moment. “He's had a hard life too. He's not told me everything, but it seems like him and his dad were travellers, and when his dad died last year he was left alone and homeless.”

“Poor bloke. I thought those traveller types were right tight with each other, saw each other as all being family?” 

“I don't think they were travellers like that, just I don't know maybe more like hippies or something. I don't know, I've not liked to ask as I know it'll upset him. What he's told me though, well his dad being murdered isn't even the half of it. The stuff that's happened to him.” He shook his head. “How he'd still standing, how he still cares, it amazes me. He's seen me just about as low as I've ever been, sitting on the sofa crying and certain that nobody in the world cares. He didn't tell me to stop or to man up, he just put his arm round me and wanted to listen.” 

“I should bloody well hope so,” Gwen said, taking hold of his hand. “I'm sorry I've not been there for you, I didn't know. If anybody starts give you a hard time, you just point them in my direction and I'll give them a piece of my mind.”

“I didn't want to tell anybody,” Andy admitted. “I thought people would be angry or disappointed or they'd laugh at me for being so pathetic. I know it doesn't make any sense, but I couldn't stop myself thinking it.” 

Gwen gave his hand a squeeze. “I'm just glad you've got someone there. It know it won't make everything better, but it helps. I don't know what I'd do without Rhys. I know you've never really got what I see in him, but he's stuck with me through finding out about aliens, weird alien pregnancy, even getting shot and he's still the same bloke he was.” She smiled, something sad behind her eyes. “If I was better person I'd let him go, I'd keep him safe, let him have a normal life, but I can't, because he's all I've got and I'm fu..” She stopped looked at Ceri who was now wearing more of the banana than she'd eaten and seemed very happy about it if the dribbly grin and bits of fruit being squished between her fingers was anything to go by. “Flipping fed up of losing people.” 

He'd not heard about Rhys getting shot, but it seemed to be a past rather than current even from Gwen tone, Andy decided it probably wasn't the best plan to ask about it. 

Conversation turned back towards more everyday things like shopping, the weather and how Cardiff City was doing, and by the time they were ready to leave the cafe Andy had decided that even if nothing else worked out in his visit to Cardiff then for this alone it would still have been worth it. 

Ceri giggled as Gwen put her back in the buggy and waved the soggy and now quite bananary rabbit in the air.

“Now don't you go being a stranger.” Gwen gave him a hug. “And if you ever need to talk about anything, if you need help with anything, whatever and whenever it is just call. I don't even care if it's two in the morning, I'm probably awake anyway.”

“I hope I won't ever need to.”

“I know, but I'm always there, Andy, I got few enough friends left these days. I...” Gwen stopped and shook her head, obviously having thought better about what she was going to say. “So what's the plan for the rest of the afternoon?” 

“I'm visiting my mam, not seen her in a while.” He felt guilty for thinking it, visiting her was definitely the least anticipated part of his trip. There would be endless questions about why he'd not visited sooner, what he was doing with his life, whether he'd found a nice woman to marry yet and whether he was eating properly. He also knew from experience that whatever answer he gave she would still make him feel like he should have done better. That she always ended those types of conversations by telling him that she only did it because she worried about him and wanted to see him successful and happy like his brothers made it even harder to challenge it without making himself feel guilty and ungrateful. 

“I'm sure she'll be alright about it,” Gwen said, walking with him to the door of the cafe. “You're worrying about what she's going to say, aren't you?”

Andy nodded, not wanting to go into details. 

“I'm sure it won't be as bad as you think.”

Andy nodded again, wanting and failing to believed she was right. 

* * * *

Flowers were always a safe bet, Andy decided as he bought up a bunch before driving out to the Roath area of Cardiff and his mother's house.

With the landrover parked outside, he saw the net curtains in the sitting room twitch as he opened the front gate, and by the time he’d reached the front door it was already open. 

Mrs Judith Davidson was a tiny woman, barely five foot tall with white hair that was neatly curled and held in place with antique tortoiseshell combs. At seventy three, Andy was aware that people tended to think that she was his gran rather than his mother. 

“Andrew, dear. Come in, I've got the kettle on,” she said letting him inside. “You know where the vases are, don't you?” 

If that was the way it was going to be, Andy thought, then he'd take it. Completely ignoring the fact that the last time he'd been there had been the morning after he'd agreed to take retirement from the police, that that visit had ended with him nearly in tears after she'd all but told him he'd brought everything that had happened upon himself by his own inability to act like a responsible adult, was actually easier than raking over that old, painful ground with her. 

“Yes. That would be great, mam.” Andy stopped to hang up his coat and take off his shoes. “It was really busy in town.” 

“This is just visit, isn't it?” she said she waited for him to follow her into the kitchen. She looked at the flowers. “Or are you trying to find a way to tell me have you given up on the farm now too?”

“Just a visit. There were a few things I needed to get in town. The farm is going well. I should be able to open it as a campsite next spring.” Andy knew all too well that she saw him leaving the police as some form of failure of strength of character on his part. Not that she knew all the facts, but even if she did, he wasn't entirely sure that it would soften her view. It really wasn't worth breaking the official secrets act to continue to be made to feel like a failure. The fact that she didn't seem to realise how much it hurt him to hear her, that she seemed to think that it was alright because she was family, really didn't help either. 

While the tea brewed in the pot and Andy put the flowers into a vase she told him all about her plans for Christmas. James would still be away on duty, the navy vessel he served on not returning until the new year. David and his wife Marion were spending Christmas with their eldest daughter and helping her and her husband get ready for their new and imminently arriving baby. While Simon and his family were coming over on Christmas Day in time for the Queen's speech. Then on Boxing day she was going to help out at the local hospice; Christmas was, after all, a time for charity. 

“Which just leaves us,” she said, putting the tea things onto a tray. “I was thinking that you should come over on Christmas Eve and help me put up the tree and then stay until Boxing Day. Although if you wanted to stay for longer that would be okay. I can't be much fun living in the middle of nowhere like you've decided to do.”

“About that, “Andy said, heart in mouth, wishing that he still had the flowers to do as a distraction. “I've got somebody working with me on the farm now and I was wondering if whether it would be alright if he came with me for Christmas?” 

“Hasn't he got a family of his own to go to?” she asked, taking a biscuit tin out of the cupboard. 

“No,” Andy replied, hoping that Tom wouldn't be too unhappy with him talking about his past. “He lost his father last year and he was homeless and living in a tent when I gave him a job. And I don't want to leave either of you alone at Christmas.”

“He really has nobody?” 

“No, and like you said Christmas is a time for charity.” Andy thought about Tom who would hate being referred to as a charity case, but decided that he'd probably understand. 

His mother's expression softened slightly for a moment and then hardened again. “Or at least that's what he's told you. How old did you say he was?” 

Andy felt his heart sink. It was going to be one of those sort of visits where he'd not be able to do a single thing right. He hated the idea of putting Tom through what was almost certainly going to be a fraught few days where he tried to avoid saying anything that would lead to confrontation. “He's nearly twenty two. His birthday is on Monday.” 

She frowned. “No girlfriend either?”

“He's mentioned somebody called Allison a couple of times, but I don't think it worked out,” Andy said hoping that she wouldn't have too many more questions he didn't have the answers to or did but wasn't prepared to admit to yet. “I think she went to university, he said something about her being a lawyer.”

His mother pursed her lips and shook her head. “That's the problem with young women today. No interest in raising a family. No wonder men today get so confused about what their role should be.” She got the sugar bowl out of the cupboard. “Speaking of which you need to find a nice girl and settle down. You're thirty, it's time you started acting like it.”

“I want to get the camp site up and running properly first,” Andy said knowing that there was no point arguing with her and wondering how long that was going to be a viable excuse. Certainly until it was up and running and by then David's daughter would have produced the much wanted great grandchild and with a new baby to coo over maybe she'd stop asking him whether he was going to settle down and would leave him and Tom in peace. The fact the he was thinking of Tom being there in months and even years to come gave Andy a warm feeling inside. Not wanting to explain it to his mam, he looked down, trying to cover his smile. 

“There is someone, isn't there?” she said, fixing Andy with a piercing blue stare. “What's she like? Do you think I wouldn't approve of her? Is this why you haven't told me about her?”

“No, it's not like that. I really don't have a girlfriend,” Andy said wondering how his mam could instantly make him feel like he was teenager again. 

“You've not told her you like her, have you?” she asked with an exasperated shake of her head. “Don't leave it too long or she'll find somebody else. Ladies don't like to be kept waiting.” 

“What should I tell Tom?” Andy asked, trying to steer the conversation back in a direction where he'd actually get an answer rather than a lot more uncomfortable questions. 

She gave him a long suffering smile. “You really are too soft. How you lasted in the police as long as you did I'll never know. If it will give you peace of mind, you may invite him. I expect you to tell him thought that while he is in my house that he will abide by the rules of it.” 

“He will,” Andy said picking up the tray of tea things and carrying them through to the living room for her. The rules like no loud music, no smoking inside, no swearing really wouldn't be a problem, although Tom might need occasional reminding about remembering to take off his shoes when he came inside the first couple of times. 

“I've made up the guest room for you,” she said after they had finished their tea. “I hope you don't mind all the boxes in there, but I'm helping to organise the churches Christmas charity parcels this year.”

“Of course not,” Andy replied knowing that unless he found something to do he'd end up being asked even more questions about what he was doing with his life. “While I'm here are is anything you'd like a hand with?” 

“Now that you mention it the lightbulb in the bathroom has been flicking, I think the bulb needs changing, but I can't reach it. I meant to ask David when he visited last Sunday, but we got talking about the baby and well, you know how things are.”

Andy nodded, happy to catch up on family gossip without having to provide any of his own. 

It was in a way a relief to find a number of odd jobs to do around the house. It gave him something to do rather than miss Tom and worry about how he was. Get a few bits down from the attic for her, change the light bulb, bleed the radiators in time for winter and rake up a few leaves from the lawn. 

The evening had consisted of a few hours of quiz shows, cookery programs and home renovation, followed by the ten o'clock news and weather and then, as it always had been when he'd lived home, the television was switched off for the night. 

 

* * * *

As visits home went it had been about as got as they got, Andy thought the following morning, as he got ready to leave. Sunday morning had been the rush that it had become in resent years as his mam tried to get breakfast cooked before she went off to church. 

Andy supposed that it was more correctly he supposed you'd call it chapel as it was Methodist rather Anglican. They had only ever been Christmas church goers when he'd been young, his mother's weekly Sunday visits only having started after his dad had died. He suspected that his mother liked the social aspect of it as much or maybe even more than the religious part, as she felt his loss more keenly then as that had been the one day of the week when he'd always been at home. 

After doing the washing up for her and putting the washing machine on, Andy left. A quick trip into a much less busy city centre and a browse round the market down by the Millennium Stadium finally provided some presents for Tom in the form of a new set of wood carving tools and a couple of thick jumpers for when the weather turned. 

With presents finally bought and the good news about Christmas to deliver, Andy got into the landrover happy with his visit to Cardiff and drove back to the farm. 

 

TBC. 

 

 **Notes.**  
Sorry about how late this part is, hoping to get back to my twice a week posting schedule after this part. 

This is becoming the fic series of doom as the 'verse now included the past Martha/Tom Martha/Mickey drabble set found here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/890877  
Which fits in with what Gwen talks about in the cafe.


	22. Chapter 22

If this was how cold it was in November it was definitely going to be too cold to risk changing outside come January or February, Tom thought as he ran naked back across the moorland to where he had hidden his clothes. 

The sun was barely over the horizon and the heavy overnight frost was still thick on the whitened grass, which crackled beneath his bare feet. The cold and early hour had its up side though, the risk of running into a hiker or somebody out for an casual jog was pretty low. Farmers were still a possibility, but this far from a road they would generally be on a tractor or a quad bike; noisy enough to give Tom plenty of warning to hide. Which was just as well, as explaining why he was naked and bits of dried sheep blood and scraps of wool stuck to him wasn't really a conversation that Tom wanted to have with anyone. 

At least running gets you warmed up, Tom thought as he reached where he had left his clothes. The chill in the air was worse now he'd stopped and he got dressed as quickly as he could – washing could wait until he got back to the farm and he strip off in front of the fire. 

He knew his dad would have laughed and said he was going soft. Tom smiled, remembering the few times that his had have given him any information about where he'd grown up, information that had normally ended with his dad grumbling about 'soft Southerners.' As far as he could tell anybody who lived south of Newcastle was a southerner, and depending on what sort of mood he was in maybe even people in Newcastle as well, as McNair had, as far as he could tell, come from a town, on the coast just north of there.

If there were still members of his family living there his dad had never said. Perhaps there people who were his grandparents or aunties, uncles or cousins there. Tom stopped and sat down on a stone outcrop over looking cold, still waters Garreg-Ddu. 

What could he say? Sorry that your son or brother didn't contact you for years, he's dead now and I'm his sort of son. He shook his head. It would be stupid to go looking for them, even if he knew where to start, there was nothing but hurt feelings all round to be gained from it. 

A skein of geese flew overhead, honking mournfully in the still, cold air and Tom watched them until they where lost from sight. How hard must it have been for McNair to have turned his back on his family, to have cut himself of from them entirely? His dad had been the same age he was now when he'd been turned. He swallowed past a lump in his throat. Family had been everything to him, even the story he'd made up to try to make their life and being a werewolf seem a little less terrible to him as kid had been about family. It might have been revelled to be a lie, but now he wondered just how much of it had been wishful thinking on his dad's part, how much had his dad wanted to believe the lie himself. 

How lonely must it have been for him? He'd had him to look after, but looking after a kid was hard, looking after Eve had shown him that, and he'd had Annie and Hal there. His dad hadn't had anybody else, no man or woman in his life, no friends, no company or love like he'd found with Andy. Tom sighed and stood back up. It was no good dwelling on it, he told himself as he began to walk back to the farm. All he could do was make sure that he kept Andy safe, loved and cared for, and hoped that when he finally felt able to tell him what he was that he wouldn't lose him forever and end up as lost and alone as McNair had been. 

 

The farmhouse was cold and quiet when Tom reached it, although he didn't expect anything else – nobody had been at home since Andy had left for Cardiff the previous morning. After checking the time, a little after nine, and lighting the fire so that he'd have heat and hot water, Tom grabbed a pad of paper and wrote down what he could remember about the vampire woman from the pub car park.   
There wasn't really a lot to go on. Blonde, slim, posh, has a well kept old motorbike and liked dog fights wasn't really the most complete of descriptions, but he hoped that Hal might be able to figure out who it was from that. He also hoped that the answer would be that the woman was nobody to worry about. 

He looked at the clock again and wondered what time Andy was likely to get home. Not before lunch time was fairly safe bet, but getting washed and cleaned up before he got home would be a good idea. 

After putting his clothes at the bottom of the bag that they took into the laundrette in town, Tom rinsed off most of dried blood and bits of wool from his skin and hair. Then, after dragging the tin bath in front of the fire, he filled it with water. The fire never managed to get it quite as hot as he would like it and the tin bath was too small to do anything other than sit with your knees near your chin, but it was still better than anything he'd grown up with, although it did make him miss the shower back at Honolulu Heights.

Tom had been in the bath for only a few minutes when he heard the rumble of the landrover's engine outside. Grabbing the soap, he made sure that there was no trace of sheep left on him, before running his hand over his chin. He probably could do with having a shave really, he thought, but it wasn't too bad. 

Tom stood up as Andy let himself in, calling out as he did, “I'll be done in a minute.”

“Wow, now there's a sight to come home to,” Andy said with a smile, as he put the bags he was carrying down on the kitchen table. “Don't hurry because of me.” 

“Nah the waters getting a bit cold now,” Tom said, grabbing a towel he'd left over the back of a chair and stepping out of the bath. “Done a bit of shopping then?” he asked looking at the bags. “I should have said we need some more bread, I forgot to get any yesterday.” 

“No bread, but there is cake and stuff, as it is your birthday tomorrow,” Andy said nodding towards the bags. “I wasn't sure what you'd like, so I got a few things.”

“Whatever you've got'll be good, 'cause you got it.” Tom smiled and wrapped the towel around his waist. “Anyway, I've already got what I want.”

“Oh.” Andy's face fell. “Did you buy it in town?”

“Don't be daft.” Tom pulled Andy into a rather damp hug. “I meant you. Being here with you, nothings better than that.”

Andy stared, then said incredulously, “You're not joking are you?”

Baffled at why he would think that, Tom said, “Course not. Why would I?” 

Closing his eyes, Andy held him tight, breathing into his hair. “I've missed you so much.”

“It's only bin one night,” Tom said, wondering now if maybe something had gone wrong in Cardiff. “You sure you're okay?”

“Yeah.” Andy released his hold fractionally and gave him a tired, relieved smile. “It's just good to be home.”

Perhaps, Tom thought, if he were away from both Andy and the farm for a couple of days he'd probably feel the same. It hadn't felt too long for him really, not that he wanted to tell Andy that, but since a good part of it had been spent working, worrying about vampire or being a werewolf, he had been kind of busy. “I know, I'm happy yer back.” 

Andy glanced down at the towel, where Tom was pressed against him. “Part of you seems very happy.”

Wondering if there would ever be a time when he didn't end up going red about things like this, Tom said feeling less embarrassed than he looked, “Oh yeah. It's not just that bit, I'm all happy. You make all my bits happy.” 

Andy laughed, warm and genuine, and then kissed him. “Such a way with words.”

Tom closed his eyes and let himself be backed against the wall. It was a little frustrating sometimes to be so much shorter than Andy, especially when, like now, Andy had shoes and he didn't, pushing the height difference even closer to a full foot. Five foot six wasn't that short really, he told himself, it was just that Andy was so tall. As there wasn't any space to fall over, Tom moved up onto tiptoes - it never felt fair to make him lean over so much. There was something nice about it too though, Tom thought pushing against him, having Andy all over him, making him feel loved, safe and wanted.

Sounding a little breathless now that Tom was all but grinding against him, Andy broke the kiss and said, “Is it too early to suggest going to bed?” 

“I dunno?” Tom mumbled, kissing Andy's neck and slipping his hands under the edge of his jumper. “Depends why, I 'spose. Are you tired?”

“I might be tired later.” Andy ran his hands down Tom's back until they reached where the towel hung low on his hips. “But I wasn't thinking of sleeping just yet.” 

“In that case...” Tom ducked out of Andy's arms, losing his towel as he did, and took hold of his hand. “Come on.” 

The bedroom was colder than the living room and Tom quickly got under the covers to wait for Andy to undress. 

“I'm going back to Cardiff again over Christmas,” Andy said suddenly, as he took the last of his clothes off. “I was wondering if you'd got any plans?”

“Not really thought about it,” Tom said honestly, pulling back the covers as he did so, so that Andy could get in beside him. “Never really did much for it before, dad never really saw the point. He didn't believe in all that stuff. And last year, well it weren't a great time for anyone.”

Andy got into bed before answering. “Not sure I do. Believe in it that is, but my mam does, so I go along with it.” 

“It must be nice having a mum,” Tom said, resting his head against his shoulder. “I don't ever remember having one. I mean I know I did, 'cause everyone does, but I don't remember her. Not even a little bit.” 

Andy put an arm around him, holding him close.“I'm sorry. I didn't think” 

“Nah, it's okay, you can't miss what you've never had, right?” Tom said, not really wanting to talk about. He smiled and hoped Andy would leave it, then said, “I can look after the farm while you're away, there ain't much that really needs doin'.”

“Actually,” Andy said looking nervously at him, licking dry lips. “I was wondering if you might want to come with me. I'm only going to stay for a couple of days. I'll understand if you don't want to though or if you've made other plans.”

“Won't she mind?” Tom asked, bit stunned at what Andy was asking him. Meeting the parents of somebody you loved was supposed to be a pretty big deal, wasn't it? “I mean, it's not like she knows me.”

“You'd be alone otherwise and so would she.” Andy said, not really sounding that happy about his proposed compromise. “I don't want to do that for either of you. You don't mind it not being just the two of us for Christmas?”

“I know you wouldn't want us to be alone, you're right nice like that.” Tom said, wondering what he was missing that might be upsetting Andy about the situation. “So of course I don't mind. Family is important, ain't it? I 'spose they're kinda like my family in a way now an' all, what with us being together.”

“We shouldn't mention that,” Andy said quickly, sounding even more unhappy about it, but resigned to the fact that he couldn't see it being any other way. “My mam's got a lot of opinions on...well everything really.”

“Oh right,” Tom said, trying not to look too hurt about it, as he did sort of understand. “My dad had too. He reckoned people should wait until they knew they'd found the right one before they did stuff, maybe even get married first.” His dad had been a bit vague on what some of the stuff had sometimes, but he'd always been clear about the waiting until you were sure thing. It was kind of nice in a weird way, Tom thought, to find out that normal humans thought the same way too. 

“Yeah, something like that,” Andy said weakly, not really looking at him. 

“I don't 'spose telling her you're definitely the one for me, would be enough, would it?” Tom asked hopefully. Lying to Andy's mum felt a bit off, even if they were doing it because otherwise they'd upset or annoy her. 

Andy shook his head and moved to sit on the edge of the bed, his back to Tom. “Not really.” 

Moving over, Tom put an arm round him, hating that Andy seemed so upset by it all. “It'll be okay,” he said wondering if he should perhaps he should say he couldn't come after all. Maybe he should pretend to remember he'd made plans to go and see Hal and Alex instead. An out right lie to Andy felt much worse than a lie by omission to his mum, so he quickly decided that it was probably best to go along with what Andy seemed to want. 

Sighing, Andy leant against him. “I know it will. I'm really sorry. I don't like having to ask you to pretend.”

“It's only for a couple of days, though, ain't it? I can manage that,” Tom said, giving him a quick kiss and then smiled.“Just think how happy we'll be when get back to the farm and have time for ourselves?”

There was still a slight undercurrent of doubt in his voice as he said, “As happy as we are today?” 

“Even happier maybe.” Tom took hold of his hand. “Now do yer want to get under the covers before you get a cold?” 

“You could help me get warmed up,” Andy said sounding relieved that they were hopefully about do something where in depth conversation was generally lacking, as he got under the duvet. 

Moving so he was partially on top of him, Tom said, “Like this?” 

“Definitely like that.” Andy wrapped his arms around him, then kissed him again.

Tom smiled against his mouth. The wolf was as far away as it got, he had Andy back, an invitation to meet his family and it was his birthday tomorrow. Life was, he thought, hooking one of his legs around Andy's, feeling the heat growing between them, just about as good as it got.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ****A/N  
>  Apologies for how late this is. I've not abandoned this fic. Just a lot of other things going on - as per last few LJ entries. Anyway, I'm hopefully going to get back to the twice a week schedule from now until Christmas, then probably one a week until New Year (as I'll be away without laptop over Christmas), and back to normal in January.


	23. Chapter 23

Nervous didn't even being to over it, Andy thought as he negotiated the landrover through the outskirts of Cardiff, the roads near gridlocked in places as people headed home to spend Christmas Eve with their friends and family. 

“Lights are green.”

Andy turned his head to stare at Tom for a moment before returning them to the road. The gears crushed as he got it moving again, the car behind beeping at him for having waiting for so long before moving. 

“You sure you'll alright?” Tom said once Andy had crossed the junction and was on a quieter, more residential street. “You were pretty restless last night.” 

“I'm fine. It's just that...” Andy stopped, not wanting to give voice to his actual fears – that his mum would be horrified by his relationship with Tom should she ever find out. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “It's being back in Cardiff, that's all. I'll be fine.” 

“Okay,” Tom said, not sounding entirely convinced. “Well if you're sure.”

Part of him wanted to confess it all to Tom before they set foot in his mother's house, tell him why he'd barely slept the last couple of nights. Perhaps if he could just get the words out, if he could tell Tom that no matter what his family he'd still love him, them they'd be alright. Tom would be his usual optimistic self and tell him it would all be okay, and then maybe, just maybe the thoughts churning in his head would stop. Not that he could tell Tom all of his fears, some where rooted firmly back in bloody Torchwood territory. Stupid fears of alien invasion, rampaging weevils and worse of all people who he'd thought were on the right side, on his side, trampling all over the lives the most vulnerable in society to save their own skins. 

“It's well posh round here, ain't it?” Tom said a few moments later, looking out of the window at the neat rows of nineteen thirties semis with their red tile roofs and bay window. “Did you really grow up round here?”

“Yes, I never really thought about it being posh, it was just home,” Andy replied as his mother's house came into view. Seventeen Park Crescent had been home from the time he was born until, in his second year in the police force, he'd got a flat of his own in the city centre near the police station. 

There were no flashy external Christmas lights, just a simple, traditional holly wreath on the well polished front door and in the living room window a candle lit nativity scene that had been part of his mum's Christmas decorations for as long as Andy could remember. Inside there would be a tree, ready for him to help decorate with whatever Good Housekeeping magazine or the Daily Mail said were fashionable this year, and Christmas cards. Lots and lots of Christmas cards. Andy smiled, remembering how they used to cover just about every available surface from mid December onwards. When he'd been small he'd thought that his Mum got cards from just about everybody in Wales – it had certainly felt like it when she used to ask him to help with writing the replies. 

With Tom holding their bags, Andy held a potted poinsettia, his mum always liked to have one as part of the decorations on the table for Christmas dinner each year, and knocked on the door. 

"Andrew, so nice to see you," she said as she open the door. “What a lovely She looked at Tom, taking in the shabby coat and scuffed trainers. "And this must be your friend." 

"Tom McNair." Tom held out his hand for her to shake it. "Thank you for letting me stay for Christmas, Mrs Davidson." 

“Well it is a time for family and charity after all.” She moved to one side to let them inside, and asked, “Would you both like some tea. It is a rather a long drive from Andrew's, isn't it?” 

“Thank you, that'd be great,” Tom said politely, turning to Andy he said, “Do you want me to take the bags up or something?” 

Andy nodded. “You can put them in my room for now, it's second door past the top of the stairs and has blue carpet.” He looked at his mum. “That's okay, isn't it?” 

“Of course,” his mum said, indicating for Andy to follow her through into the kitchen. 

Once they were away from Tom she said,“Well he's a little rough round the edges I suppose, but he's making an effort at least.” 

“He's a good man,” Andy said, wishing that he felt able to add 'and I love him' without fear of it causing a scene. At least it wasn't going too badly so far, he told himself, hoping that slightly awkward was as bad as it was going to get. Awkward he could definitely live with. 

“I wouldn't have expected you to employ anybody who wasn't. You are generally a good judge of character. That said, if you want set yourself up as a hotelier you really need to understand that there needs to be distance between oneself and the staff,” she said setting out a teapot and three cups. “You'll only create problems for yourself later if you don't.” 

“It's going to be camp site, mam. It's hardly the Ritz,” Andy said, getting the milk out of the fridge for her and wondering if he should have warned Tom that his mam was one of those people who believed milk before tea was the only civilized way to drink it. “Anyway I don't know if Tom will still be working there when it opens. He's more of a builder really, although I suppose I'll need somebody to do maintenance, cut the grass and the like.”

“Well at least it's an honest trade,” she said, willing to concede the point. “There are too many young people today who think work like that beneath them. The country wouldn't be in the state it's in if they weren't.” 

It was best never to get drawn into a conversation about what his mum thought was wrong with the country, as it generally took some time and would leave him feeling miserable and on edge in case he'd managed to say the wrong thing. Wanting to get back to safe territory he asked, “So what's the plan for tonight?” 

“Are you wanting to go out with your friends from the police then?” 

There was just a hint of accusation that he would be leaving her alone with Tom if he did, and Andy shook his head, not really wanting to have to point out that he had no friends left there any more. “No, I think they've all got plans. I know Gwen has, what with it being her and Rhys' baby's first Christmas.”

“Quite.” She paused a moment to look out of the kitchen window at the sparrows on the bird table in the garden, then said, “I'm going to the early service this year, as Marjorie's nephews are in the choir this year and I said I go with her, being as she lost her Bernard back in the summer. That's at five. I will be back by seven, but I'll let you decide what you wish to do about dinner, as it rather late.” 

“I could make something for all of us,” Andy said, relaxing slightly as he looked forward to having a couple of hours alone with Tom. “And then it would be ready for when you came back.” 

His mum smiled and patted his arm. “You're such a good boy. I really don't know why you've not settled down yet.”

"I am trying, I've got the farm, haven't I?" Andy said, wondering how his mum can both ask him to grow up and still treat him like a kid all in the same sentence. Before she can question him on just when the farm will be ready, he asked, "So will it just be the three of us over Christmas? Or are we expecting company?" 

There was a slightly tautness to her smile as she replied. “Simon and his children are coming over tomorrow afternoon after lunch for a few hours. If the weather is fine we will go for a walk in the park. Children spend too much time sat indoors these days, so it will do them some good.” 

“Isn't Rachel coming?” Andy asked, hoping that he hadn't missed some important piece of family news about his brother's marriage. 

“No,” she said coldly, putting the sugar tongs down with rather more force than was necessary on the tray. “Simon knows how I feel about her. I will not have that woman in my house again.”

Andy sighed. Sometimes it really had been easier working out on the beat on a Friday night in the city centre than it was negotiating the minefield that was his mother's relationship with anybody other than his eldest brother, David. “What happened?”

“We had a disagreement over her work.” She looked pointedly at the tray set with the tea things until Andy picked it up to carry it for her. 

Andy didn't know Rachel very well, but from what he remembered she'd been a very smiley person with chunky jewellery, who loved her children and worked as some kind of organiser or fundraiser for a charity. “Really?” he asked warily, not wanting to get drawn into a conversation where he was almost certainly going to find himself at odds with his mother yet again.

“Yes. Some charity initiative promoting same sex parenting. Disgraceful is what I call it,” she said self-righteously. “So I told her I wouldn't have a person who supported child abuse in my home and she just stormed out. I'd never been so insulted.” 

So much for hoping her opinions might soften with age, Andy thought bitterly. Part of him wanted to call her on it, tell her to just listen to herself for a moment, to understand how appalling and hurtful the things she was saying really were. The other part knew she wouldn't listen, that she direct that venom at him. Had he still been in the police and heard that out on the beat he'd have called them on, but it was his mother in her own home and with Tom in the other room he couldn't face putting him thought the kind of argument that would be the result. 

“I knew you'd be just as disgusted as I was,” she said, having taken his silence as an indication agreement. “You're a good boy. I pity Louise and Benjamin for having such a woman as a mother, I dread to think what sort of people she'll let them mix with.” She shook her head. “Now we shall talk no more of it. It's hardly a topic for conversation when we have a guest in the house.”

“No, of course not,” Andy said feeling sick at the hatred he'd just heard, but utterly powerless to do anything about it. 

She smiled. “Good. Now I was thinking you could help me with the tree after we've had our tea. That way it will be finished by the time I need to go out.” 

 

Decorating the tree took some time, but it was definitely preferable to the tense and carefully polite tea as they'd all not tried to say the wrong thing, Andy decided. Looking at Tom's honest enthusiasm and delight at the lights and decoration now on the tree Andy wished he'd got one for the farm. Next year they would, he told himself, and he'd let Tom put as much tinsel and baubles on it as he wanted. 

While Tom took the rubbish out for her, Judith looked at the tree. “Are you sure he's really in his twenties?” she asked as he straightened one of the red and gold bows. “He seems younger.”

Although Andy had seen nothing definite with Tom's age on, he had little doubt that Tom had told him the truth. The real reason Andy suspected was much sadder. “I don't think he had much of a childhood really,” Andy said hoping that they'd finish this particular conversation before Tom returned. “Him and his dad moved around a lot, lived in a caravan or a camper van, I don't even know if they ever had room for a tree.”

“He's a gypsy?” Judith said appalled. She looked round at the drawer where Andy knew she kept the silver dinner service that her grandmother had left her. “Do you think I should lock it?”

“Mam, don't be awful,” Andy said shocked that she would even think that. 

“I've read about people like him in the paper, how they trick you into getting new driveways and things, and then they take your money.”

“He's not a gypsy. His dad's work just meant they moved around a lot.” 

“So he was employed then?” she asked rather happier now. 

“Yes, building trade for the most part, not driveways as far as I know," Andy said knowing he was being more than a little economical with the truth. "He was a surveyor actually.”

“That a good job," she admitted, before looking round at the clock on the mantelpiece over the fire. "Oh dear, is that the time, I really must get ready."

 

A short while later and dressed in what she always referred to as her Sunday best, Judith came back into the living room where Andy and Tom where watching TV. 

"Have fun at the service," Andy said getting up and giving her a brief hug. He'd met the vicar there a couple of times, when his mum had insisted that he come along. She'd been a nice woman, who he suspected was rather more tolerant of people than his mum had ever been. Maybe in time, he hoped, she'd be come more accepting by associating, either that or she would find a different church to attend where the prevailing views matched her own. Somehow he doubted she'd go elsewhere as all her friends attended and he knew she saw it as much as a social thing as a religious one.

Judith smiled and nodded. "It will be good to see them. I did tell you about Marjorie's nephews, didn't I?"

"Yes."

"Good, they are such nice boys. In the scouts you know." She paused to think for a moment then said, "If you're using the oven to cook this evening remember to put a sheet of foil in the base, it makes it easier to clean if you burn something." 

Andy knew she probably meant when rather than if. "Okay. I'll see you later. 

“I don't think she likes me, I heard what she said about locking things away” Tom said quietly once they had heard the front door close. “Maybe I should go.” 

“It was just a misunderstanding. Please don't go, I want you here, and it's Christmas Eve. Any way she'll think it's a slight against her hospitality if you do, I'll never hear the end of it, if you do” Andy said, grateful to get some time alone with Tom. “I'm not sure she likes anybody much really.”

“Maybe. It must've bin nice all living here,” Tom said looking out the sitting room window at the small, well ordered garden. “A proper family home. I mean I liked my dad and the van, but sometimes I...” he stopped and shrugged. “I guess it don't really matter.” 

“It does.” Andy put his arms around him. 

Tom made non-committal noise and shrugged again. “'s all in the past though, ain't it? You can't go worryin' about the what might've beens.” 

Andy smiled. Tom was so pragmatic sometimes it amazed him. “What did I do to get such a wise boyfriend?”

“I dunno.” Tom laughed and gave him a kiss. “But whatever it is, don't stop doing it. I might even end up smart at this rate.” 

“You're smart already,” Andy said. Caught up in the moment he kissed Tom again. “I want us to be together forever.”

There was a thud and sharp intake of breath behind them and they broke apart. Turning round they saw his mum standing in the doorway, a look of shock and disgust on her face, her handbag dropped to the floor, its contents scattered across the polished wood. 

“Mam.” Andy looked at her, eyes wide like a rabbit caught in the headlights. 

“How could you, Andrew?” she said angry and hurt. “How could you do such a thing in my house?” 

“It were just a kiss,” Tom said, defensively, before Andy could say anything.

“It's disgusting it what it is,” she snapped back. “Two men together like that, it's a disease. A mental illness.”

“Mam!” Andy said, shocked at the viciousness of her tone. 

“My dad said I shouldn't be rude to ladies, especially not old ladies,” Tom said, standing between Andy and his mother. “So I'm not going to say anything rude. And 'cause he also said if you can't say anything nice then you'd best not say owt at all, I 'spose I'd better shut up as I can't think of owt polite to say to you yet.” 

“You must have been such a disappointment to him,” she said sourly. “To have a child turn into little more than a beast.” 

Tom frowned. “I don't think I was and Dad always said that were the best part of us, that it were natural. Primal I think he said or it might have bin primeval. But he were alright with it.”

She gave him a withering look and turned to Andy. “How could you let him corrupt you like that? I didn't raise you like this.” 

“It's not Tom's fault,” Andy said looking down at the carpet, felt tears pricking in his eyes. “I've had these feeling for years, mam. I've just never told you, because I knew you be like this. You wouldn't want to even try to understand or be happy for me.”

“Oh I understand and it disgusts me. Now get out,” she said almost shaking with rage as she pointed at the door. “Both of you get out of my house.” 

“What about our stuff?” Tom asked, looking worriedly toward the stairs.

“He,” she said pointing at Tom. “Can wait outside. As for you Andrew, you can collect your belongings and then you can leave.”

“Mam, just listen...” Andy began, scared that he was going to cry and give her something else to make him feel pathetic and ashamed about. 

“No,” She said turning her back on him, sounding like she was going to cry herself. “I don't want to look at you and there is nothing you could possibly say that I wish to hear. I really only have myself to blame for this. It was a mistake to have had another child so late in life. Forty three was too old for another child, they warned me there could be defects, but I was foolish enough to believe that I knew best.” 

“Mam, please.” Andy's voice cracked. 

“Don't, I don't want to hear it. I'll tell your brothers after Christmas,” she continued as if she hadn't heard him, taking a handkerchief from her coat pocket and wiping her eyes. “I don't want you to bother them with this and ruin their holidays as well as mine. Now will you please just go away.” 

She wasn't going to listen or even attempt to, so feeling numb and shaken, Andy all but ran up to his old room and collected his and Tom's bags. 

 

“So what we gonna to do now?” Tom asked, taking their bags from Andy as he stepped outside. “Should we find somewhere to stay or something or are we gonna go home?”

“A hotel. I'll find us a hotel,” Andy said, faintly worried that if he drove that he might crash and Tom wasn't really ready for the kind of traffic that was on the road at the moment. Snow was starting fall, just a few light flakes, as he sat down on the step at the back of the landrover and got out his phone.

He could do this, Andy told himself as he connected to the internet, looking for last minute deals, he could still give Tom an okay Christmas, all he had to was give this his complete attention and find them somewhere nice and then it would be alright. He'd be alright. 

Part way thought booking, Tom had taken off his own coat and put it round him, but Andy had still felt cold and numb by the time he'd finally secured them a room for a couple of nights. The short drive thought into Cardiff had passed in a blur and if he'd been asked which streets he'd driven down or how long it had taken he knew he wouldn't have been able to answer. 

The city centre hotel was nice, modern and a bit more expensive than he would normally go for, but they didn't have much choice at such short notice and on Christmas Eve. The young woman on the reception desk thankfully didn't make any comment when he'd asked for a double room, just smiled politely at them, handed them the key card, wishes them a Merry Christmas and told them that food was being served until eight, but that room service was available until eleven. 

Any energy that Andy had left seemed to fall away once they were inside the room, the world locked safely away outside and he sat down heavily on the edge of the bed. 

He could hear Tom talking to him, the words jumbling together into a meaningless noise, although he nodded none the less, when he realised that Tom was waiting for some kind of answer from him. 

“I shouldn't have kissed you where she could see," Tom said as he started to make them some tea, which Andy guessed he'd just agreed to. "You said not to let her know we was together. Now your mum's not talking to you and it's all my fault.”

“It's not your fault,” Andy said, hating the fact that Tom, who was so nice to everybody could think that any of this was his fault. Part of him wanted to blame himself for ever taking Tom to his mum's house, for not telling him the truth and for not standing up to her. All the problems came back to him in the end, he thought bitterly. He'd ruined every ones Christmas with his stupid plan. He closed his eyes. He was useless. Everybody would be so much better off without him. 

“You gonna be all right, aren't yer?” Tom asked, abandoning the tea and sitting down beside him. “I were thinking, maybe if you give her a while she'll be okay with us. Maybe it were just the shock of it, like. She couldn't have meant all them things....could she?”

Andy shook his head. “She did. She won't forgive me for this. Not ever.” It had been worse than he'd ever thought it would be or could be. The disappointment and disgust in her eyes, he thought would be with him for life. If Tom hadn't stayed with him, if he'd been trying to face it alone right now, he didn't like to think about want he would have done – especially when he thought that the best case scenario was him getting stinking drunk and getting somebody, anybody at whatever club was open to pick him and do whatever they wanted to him, just so he wasn't alone. 

“But you're her son. You're family and it's not like we've done anything that even needs forgivin',” Tom said sounding genuinely confused. “Why can't she be happy for you? 'snot like we're doing owt wrong. I mean me dad would have been right ticked off that I'd not done like he said and waited until we was married and the like. So we've have probably had a bit of a scrap and yelled about it, but he'd have seen you were the only one for me in the end.” He gave Andy an encouraging smile. “I think he'd have liked you.”

Andy wanted to tell Tom that not everybody was like that, but nothing would come out. He felt cold and tired. He was every bit a weak and pathetic as she had said. 

“It'll be okay,” Tom said, putting an arm round him and holding him tight. “Wiv got each other, and that all we need really, ain't it?”

'No, it's not and it never will be, because I'm the problem,' rolled over and over in his mind, but he couldn't say it, couldn't hurt Tom like that, even if it felt like the truth. Nodding, Andy leant against him, too numb now even to cry.


	24. Chapter 24

24

It was funny staying in a hotel that was really a hotel. He'd lived at Honolulu Heights and worked at the Barry Grand, and although it felt a little bit disloyal, this hotel Tom had to admit was much nicer than either of them. He'd have swapped all that niceness for Andy not looking like he wanted to breakdown and cry. 

The fact that seeing him so upset made him feel like crying out of sympathy and frustration at not knowing what to do to help, really didn't help. He'd never really though about family getting that angry at you. Sure he'd argued with his dad, and a lot of the time it had ended with his dad locking him in the van until he'd cooled down. Looking back at it he thought that as a teenager he'd probably not been the easiest person to live with, but he'd probably not deserved it every time. In the end though his dad had always listened to him, even if he'd never agreed. Even when his dad been furious with him, even when he'd run away after saying some pretty horrible things, McNair had still come for him, rescued him from the vampires and forgiven him. Family had been everything to him. And it was family that he'd dreamed of having for himself. They were supposed to be the people who loved you, who'd look after you no matter what. Finding out that didn't actually seem to be the case had shaken him more than he wanted to admit. 

The world was just as harsh and nasty if you were a normal human, maybe even more so, as werewolves and even vampires tended to stick up for their own respective kinds out of principle. While ordinary people seemed to want to look for differences between each other so they could say they were better than whatever group they'd singled out. Perhaps, Tom thought sadly as he finished his mug of tea, being human wasn't all that great after all.

Next to him, Andy was still silent and shivering slightly as he looked at the TV in the corner of the hotel room with really watching it, his mug growing cold in his hands.

It felt worse somehow than the time back in the summer when Andy had been so upset about an old police case he'd worked on and about how he'd been force to quit his job. This was happening right now, so there wasn't even the distance of time to help soften it a bit, and it being family really didn't help matters either. 

If he could get Andy warm and talking about it then perhaps he'd start to look and feel a bit better. At the very least, Tom decided, it probably wouldn't many Andy any worse.

"Right," said Tom standing up. "I'm gonna have a shower, do you want to go first or since it looks right big we could probably both have one at the same time." 

"Sorry, what was that?" Andy said, a look of weary confusion on his face. 

"I said the shower is really big, so do you want to come in it with me?" Tom said, putting a hand on Andy's shoulder. 

Andy blinked like he was still trying to get the words into the right order, before finally nodding. "If it's what you want." 

"I reckon it'll help get you warmed up at bit," Tom said still keeping a hand on Andy's arm as he stood, and trying not to worry about the fact that Andy was so exhausted he was swaying on his feet. 

The shower wasn't quite as big as Tom had thought it was, but they could both get in as long they didn't both try and turn round at the same time. The water was nice and warm, and he hoped, wouldn't run out mid shower. It had done that a few times at Honolulu Heights, and getting a sudden dousing in cold water really wasn't fun. 

“I'm sorry,” Andy said, after they had been standing under the hot spray for a few moments. “I should have realised all this would happen, that it would be a mess, if I brought you here. I make a mess of everything. But I'll make it up to you.” 

“You don't have to,” Tom said, squeezing out some of the complimentary shampoo from the little bottle hanging in the shower. It was a good idea having little bottles like that, he decided, he could tell Hal about them and get him to have them in the Barry Grand. “None of this is your fault, not really.”

“I should,” Andy replied, sounding like he'd not heard what Tom said. “I can make it up to you. I have to. I can't lose you. I can't." Putting a hand on Tom's shoulder he pulled him closer and kissed him. 

If this was what Andy needed, Tom decided, then he definitely happy to help and he kissed back enthusiastically, soapy hands sliding down Andy's back. It was a little disappointing when Andy broke the connection after a just a few moments, but Tom couldn't help smiling when he realised why he had. 

Crouching down in front of him Andy took his half hard cock into his mouth. Yet something wasn't right, Tom quickly realised. Andy's hands which would usually have been curled against hips or thighs, were balled into fists and pressed against the tiled floor, while his shoulders were tight and his eyes squeezed shut, as shivers ran in through him. There were ones of pleasure thought, and although Tom couldn't see it, he doubted Andy was turned on at all, by any of it.

“Stop. Stop a minute,” Tom said, pulling back. Physically it felt great, but seeing that Andy wasn't enjoying it killed the mood entirely. “This ain't right.”

Andy looked up at him, confusion in his eyes for a moment before he seemed to crumple in on himself. Shoulders shaking, he hung his head. 

“What did I say?” Tom asked, before realising what Andy must have thought he meant. Crouching down, he pulled Andy against him. “I didn't mean like that. I love you. Of course I still want you and to do things with you, but not like this, 'cause I want you to be happy when we do it, 'cause if you're not happy then I can't enjoy it, because I'd be horrible if I did, as it'd mean I didn't care, an' do care lots.” 

“Oh Tom.” Wrapping his arms tightly around Tom, Andy pressed his face against his shoulder, sobbing like his heart was breaking. “I'm sorry. I just can't think any more.” 

“It's okay.” Tom rubbed his back. “It'll be okay. I know it's all horrible right now, but things always seem get better in the end. I mean this time last year I'd lost....” Tom stopped, it didn't seem right bringing up his own loses right now, he didn't want to upset Andy any more than he already was. “What I mean is I'm never gonna leave you, and you're gonna be alright, 'cause I'll make sure you are. Well as much as I can anyway.” 

Andy wrapped his arms tightly around Tom. “I don't deserve you.”

“Yes, you do.” Tom kissed Andy's neck where he could reach it. “You deserve better 'an me really, but I'm trying.” To find the right time to tell you that I'm not normal, that I'm a werewolf, he added silently, wondering if perhaps he should put off telling Andy for a couple more months until he'd had a chance to sort things out with his family. If Andy couldn't handle being with a werewolf, Tom wanted him at least have his family to turn to if got really upset about things, and as things stood that didn't appear to be an option. 

“We should probably better get out the shower soon before we go all wrinkly like old prunes,” Tom said, once Andy was still and quiet against him. 

“Lovely,” Andy said muffled against his shoulder, but still didn't move.

“Or we could stay where we are. Wrinkly isn't so bad, I 'spose. We'll both be like that one day and we'll still be looking at each other then.” Once he'd not have thought about getting old, but meeting Leo had given him hope that it was possible. He'd not heard of a wolf who'd made it past forty five before that. Leo had been proper old, over eighty definitely, as he'd been friends with Hal for about sixty years. You just had to be careful and not go out looking for vamps to fight all the time. 

Andy lifted his head and looked at him. “You really think we will?”

“I want us to be,” Tom said, wishing there was some way he could ensure that they would, rather than just hoping it would turn out like that. 

“I can wait until we're old and grey to be wrinkly together,” Andy said getting up awkwardly in the confined space. 

“Me too,” Tom replied, standing as well. “Although I hope it's a right long time away.”

Andy looked lost and drained by the time they finally got out of the shower and dried themselves off, although Tom thought it looked more like exhaustion than anything else at the moment. The fact that Andy hadn't eaten anything since picking at his breakfast before they left the farm that morning probably wasn't helping matters either. 

With Andy wrapped in a dressing gown and sat in bed, Tom turned his attention to getting dressed. Pulling on a t-shirt and an old pair of jeans. “You gonna be alright for a few minutes if I go out for a few minutes?” 

Andy took a moment to answer, eventually nodding. “Yeah. I think I should probably try to get some sleep. It might help.”

He sounded far from convinced that it would help in Tom's opinion, but he decided that it probably wasn't worth pointing that out. Picking up his coat, he said, “Right, so I thought I'd go an' to sort us something out to eat. We can have it here in the room, unless you want to go out?”

Andy shook his head. “No, here's okay. I don't think I could face going out right now. Honestly I don't really want anything. Why don't you just get something for yourself.”

“You might be hungry later,” Tom said, uncomfortable with the idea of eating while Andy wasn't. “I'll get you something anyway, better to have it and not need it than the other way round, as me dad used to say.” It was probably best, he decided, not to add that his dad had generally meant it about improvised explosives rather than chips. 

 

There were a few places still open, so after a quick stop at a fish and chips shop who were just closing up for the next couple of days and who gave him extra chips, Tom hurried back. 

The woman on the desk who'd booked him and Andy into the hotel smiled at him and wished him a good evening, as Tom looked for the lifts. He didn't mind exercise, but it had been a long day and they were on the ninth floor. 

In the lift were two men and they were, to put it mildly, Tom thought, snogging the faces of each other. Embarrassed and slightly worried that they'd not noticed him and that they'd get even more carried away before he reached his floor, Tom said, rather louder than he'd intended, “Happy Christmas.” 

Realising they were no longer alone the younger and more drunk of the two went red, pulled away from the kiss and mumbled an apology. The other man, smiled broadly at him, although Tom could see that it was meant as a friendly warning, “A time to live and let live too.”

American, Tom decided, wondering if the man, who seemed so full of himself and was to be honest very good looking, was famous or something. “You thought I didn't...” Tom began as he realised why the other man was warning him off. “I don't mind, really. It's just...um.” Tom stopped, certain he was making a mess of explaining. “I'm just getting fish and chips for my boyfriend. So no, definitely not that.” 

The man smiled at Tom again, amused this time at his fumbling. “Well he's lucky man then.” He leant closer to his companion. “Hey, we should get something to eat in bed, and then...” He whispered in the other man's ear, causing him to go even more red. 

It wasn't quite quiet enough and Tom caught most of what he said. Blushing furiously at what he'd heard, Tom quickly pressed the button on the lift. “This is my floor, then. Bye,” he said, getting out quickly and hurrying to his and Andy's room. 

“Is something wrong?” Andy asked as Tom hurried inside. 

“No, just made a bit of an idiot of myself I think,” Tom said putting the bag of fish and chips down on the table next to the kettle. “There were these two blokes in the lift kissing an' stuff, and I think they thought I was offended, but then the American one said...well I probably shouldn't repeat it, but I think his boyfriend was in for a good night if he were gonna do all that.”

A strange look crossed Andy's face. “Did he have a big, old fashioned coat?”

“No,” Tom replied thinking that his probably ranked as one of the odder questions that he been asked. Although not as bad as some of the ones that Hal had asked shortly after moving into Honolulu Heights. “Why?”

“I just thought...” Andy sighed. “I doubt he'd ever come back here, not after what happened.”

“Were he your boyfriend once or something?” Tom asked, hoping he didn't sound jealous, because he knew that he had no reason to be. Andy was him and whoever the other bloke was he most definitely had the man he was with. 

Andy stared at him for a moment and then started to laugh. “No, no, although I think I might be the only one who hasn't been. He was a friend of a friend I suppose, but I guess it wasn't him.” 

There was still something brittle under the laughter, although the amusement was, as far as Tom could tell, genuine. It probably wasn't worth pursuing why though, as the food was getting cold and Tom knew he'd be happier if he could get Andy to actually eat something. 

“It does smell good,” Andy admitted, sitting on the edge of the bed nearest the table. 

“Just as well I got two lots then, ain't it?” Tom said taking one of the greasy paper wrappers from the bag and handing it to him. “It's already got salt an' vinegar on it, an' I got ketchup an' brown sauce too.”

They'd be okay in the end, Tom decided as he watched Andy cover his chips in ketchup and put then a couple of them into his mouth. They were spending their first Christmas together and in week it would be a whole new year, and after that in a few months time the farm would open as a campsite and they would have known each other for a whole year. 

Things might not always be easy, but that was life, as far as Tom understood it. Sometimes things were good, sometimes they were bad, and if you were lucky you had someone there to share the times and to help each other through the bad ones. He looked at Andy and smiled. Then listening to the church bells somewhere out in the city that were ringing, welcoming people to a late night carol service, he leant over and kissed him. “Happy Christmas.” 

 

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, it is Jack and Ianto that Tom ran into in the lift, not that Tom knows their names yet, but he will eventually – this is a crossover fic after all. Jack and Ianto's Christmas and return to Cardiff, will appear shortly (by the 24th Dec at the latest) in yet another fic in this 'verse, which will be called Christmas Homecomings.


	25. Chapter 25

It had been a strange sort of day, Andy decided looking at Tom, who was lying on the hotel bed, his feet up by the pillows, eating sweets and watching Bedknobs and Broomsticks. 

He'd eventually fallen into an exhausted sleep late on Christmas Eve and hadn't woken until breakfast, which Tom had arranged, was delivered to their room mid morning on Christmas Day.   
They'd even gone down to the hotel's restaurant for the last service of Christmas Dinner, after Tom had pointed out that since they'd paid for it they might as well eat it, as he didn't think it were right wasting food. It had been good as well, better than sitting in the room being alternately bored or annoyed with what was on television or thinking too much about past Christmases. Not that he could help the last one straying into his thoughts. It was, after all, the first Christmas Day that he'd not spent at least part of it at his Mum's. Even on the years where he'd been working, he'd still got there for a couple of hours in the evening. 

This could be a new Christmas tradition for Tom and him, Andy decided. A nice hotel, no washing up or cooking to have to deal with. That was it, he told himself, they were starting something new together. It just felt strange because it was new. Change wasn't bad, it was just different. Whether putting a positive spin on it was a coping strategy or if it was just tricking himself, he wasn't sure, and perhaps in the end if he ended up feeling better about it then maybe it didn't matter which one it was.

“That were great,” Tom said when the film had finished. “All them knights and that. It's not like real ghosts, but it were still good. I should ask Alex if she can do that.”

“Be a knight?” Andy asked, wondering if he'd missed some part of what Tom had said. He knew his mind had been else where a lot over the last day or two, but he didn't think it had been wandering just then.

Tom stared at him for a moment, something like fear in his eyes as he said,“Yeah, that's what I meant. With swords and that.”

It obviously hadn't been what he'd meant, Andy was sure of that, but short of calling him a liar and asking him if he meant Alex was a witch who was able to call up ghosts into suits of armour, there really wasn't anything else to do but nod and agree. He'd seen stranger things, weevils with faces like a bad Halloween masks and claws like knives, part alien girls from the future with havoc casing remote controls, time displaced Roman Centurions and people in locked cells who'd choked to death on mysteriously appearing rose petals. He shook his head. It all seemed impossible and mad now. It was something from another life. 

This was his life now. A small business owner with a home of his own, a financially secure future and a boyfriend who was more than he'd ever hoped for and who he'd come to love more than he'd thought possible. It was a good life. He just wished his family could have found it in their heart to continue to be a part of it. 

“You alright?” Tom asked, putting an arm round him. 

“Yeah,” Andy replied, surprised that he actually was. “Today could have been awful, but you made it...” The best ever didn't seem right given that they were only staying in the hotel because of his mother, nor did merely saying good, Tom had worked too hard, been too thoughtful for it to only be good. “Special.” Andy settled on and leant over to kiss him. 

It was sods law that the moment you were really into getting into something the phone would ring, Andy thought irritably as he heard his mobile. They'll give up in a couple more rings he told himself, as he ran his hands down Tom's chest.

“You should answer it,” Tom said, breathless and earnest as he pulled his t-shirt back down. “You don't get many calls, so it's probably important.”

That really didn't make it any better, Andy decided as he got out of bed and retrieved his mobile from his coat pocket. “Hello,” Andy said, trying to fight the twist of nerves that was wrapping itself tight about his chest and throat. “Andy Davidson speaking.”

“I should hope so. I don't want to find out you've had your phone stolen on Christmas Day.”

“Simon?” Andy asked shocked that any of his family would be willingly calling him. “Has something happened? It's not Mum, is it or Great Auntie Jean?”

“No, nothing like that.”

Feeling almost shaky with relief, Andy sat down on the edge of the bed. He could see Tom watching him with concern, so he covered the mobile for a moment and said, “It's Simon. My brother.”

“Oh right.” Tom looked over at the door to the on-suite. “I'll go and have a shave or something, so you can talk. Well if you want to that is.”

Andy nodded, although he wasn't sure it was the right thing to do. 

“Are you still there?” Simon asked when Andy uncovered the phone. 

“Yeah,” Andy replied, still wondering why Simon would phone him and hoping that it wasn't because he wanted to have a go at him about Tom. “Why are you calling?”

“To say Happy Christmas, and because I hear congratulation are in order,” he answered. “It's not everyday that you find out your little brother has finally settled down.” 

“Mum told you then?” Andy said dully, knowing that if she'd told Simon, both James and David would most likely know by now too. Well maybe not James, getting it out to where his ship was might take a while. 

“Eventually,” Simon said not sounding too happy about it. “I realised something was up when she said you weren't going to be there for Christmas after all. So after I pointed out that there was no way she have managed to get the tree up by herself she told me.”

“I bet that was a fun conversation,” Andy said not bothering to hide the bitterness he felt. 

There was a pause and then Simon said, “Probably better than whatever she directed at you and your partner.” 

“His name's Tom,” Andy said, knowing that he was being rather more defensive than perhaps he needed to be with Simon. 

There was another pause, then Simon said, “Rachel said I should call and find out where you and Tom were. Have you gone back home yet?”

“No, we're at hotel in Cardiff, I couldn't face Christmas Eve traffic twice in one day,” Andy said, finding it easier to lie than tell him he'd been so close to falling apart that he was scared he crash. “We're going home tomorrow.”

“You can come past Pontyclun on the way back if you want. Rachel said you should come round for Boxing Day dinner.”

“And what did you say?” Andy asked, still unable to believe that after so many years of keeping this part of his life secret from him family that at least one of them was so accept. It made him wish in a way that he'd told Simon years ago. If he had perhaps his Mum would have got use to the idea by now. 

“I said it was a great idea and probably better than my one, which was us all driving up to your place for a surprise visit.” He laughed. “I don't think I'd have heard the last of it if I'd driven all the way out there and found you weren't in.” 

“I don't think getting your car stuck half way up a farm track would have gone too well either,” Andy said, wondering if Simon still drove the old estate car that he'd had for years. 

“Knowing my luck with cars I'd have called the RAC and they'd have ended up getting stuck as well.” He paused. “So are you coming tomorrow?”

“Is Tom invited too?” Andy asked, not wanting to take anything for granted just yet.

“Of course he is. You stood up to Mum about him,” he said sounding impressed. “Of course I want to meet him, because right now he's really sounding like a potential brother in law.” 

Andy glanced toward the bathroom door and wonder if Tom could hear any of what they were saying. He'd not talked about anything like that with him, but now the idea had been put out there, he knew that it wouldn't be forgotten. “I think so,” Andy said eventually. “I hope so.” 

“Well I've got to get the kids from Mum's now, before they're any more bored out of their minds than than they already are. So Happy Christmas to you and Tom, and we'll see you tomorrow at about twelve, if that's okay?” 

“That's fine. See you tomorrow then,” Andy said, then added, “I've got some gift vouchers for Ben and Louise, I wasn't sure what they like any more.” 

“They're teenagers,” Simon said, in a rather long suffering kind of tone. “I think it changes from week to week or possibly day to day. I lose track of half of it. I doesn't seem so long ago they wanted dolls and trains. Now it's this band or pop group or some computer game thing.” 

“I suspect we were like that once,” Andy said. In some ways didn't seem that long ago really and in others it seem incredibly distant. He guessed for Simon it was even more so. “Right, well I'll see you tomorrow then.”

Tom emerged from the on-suite as soon as Andy had finished the call. “Everything okay then?” he asked sitting down on the edge of the bed next to Andy.

“Yeah.” Andy looked down at the phone. It all seemed too incredible. “Simon wants us to go round for lunch tomorrow, so you can meet them.”

“That's a good thing, right?” Tom asked, sounding like he was thinking hard about what to say. 

“It is. After Mum...” Andy stopped and let out a slow breath. “After all that I didn't think any of them would want to talk to me.”

“I thought they would,” Tom said, moving so that they were shoulder to shoulder. “I thought they could be all that bad really, as you're part of their family and you're nice, so they probably have to have a bit of niceness too. Stand to reason that.” 

Andy felt a smile tugging at his lips. Tom was so optimistic that it could carry you along with it sometimes.

“So what's Simon like then?” Tom asked. 

“I suppose Simon was the one most like me,” Andy said, uncertain really whether it was true or if it was just the fact that Simon was the only one who'd really been around to talk to. “It's funny really, I don't know my other brothers that well at all. David was already at University when I born and didn't move back home afterwards, although he moved back to Cardiff in the end, about fifteen years ago now. James joined the Navy when he was seventeen. I was only three then, so I only saw him when he came back on leave. Simon though was there until I was eight and he came back after he finished university and lived with Mum and Dad until he'd finished his teacher training.” 

Tom listened, a small frown on his face that Andy recognised meant that he was thinking hard about something. “I'd always thought of families bein' together all the time you know. I mean, when I didn't have one, I always thought how good it'd be.”

“There were good times,” Andy said. There had been too, a lot of them. Birthdays, holidays, weekends down at the beach, football and rugby in the park, his brothers' weddings, the party they'd had for Great Gran on her ninetieth. 

“Yeah, I just mean having other kids around,” Tom said, looking down at the floor. “It were just with no family and not goin' to school, I never really had...” He stopped. “It don't matter now. It's Christmas an' we're together, so we'd better make the most of it if we're goin' to be out tomorrow.”

Although he would have liked to have known what Tom was going to say, Andy didn't want to make him miserable, not when Tom had worked so hard to cheer him up. “Definitely,” Andy replied as he kissed him.

“I don't 'spose you could you turn your phone off?” Tom asked, shifting slightly on the bed. “Only I don't want to have to wait again. It's getting a bit uncomfortable.” 

“Oh, right, yes.” Andy hurriedly switched off his phone. “Now where were we?”

* * *

The snow was thicker outside of Cardiff and away from the coast. The main roads had all been gritted, but it made Andy wonder just how much snow there would be waiting for them when they got back to the farm. There were times when he complained about how much fuel the landrover needed, but in weather like this there was a certain smug satisfaction to be had knowing that you could still get places most peoples cars couldn't. 

Not that getting to Simon's house was difficult, all main roads until you turned off into a modern cul-de-sac of houses. The old estate car parked out front, the swing and slide had gone though replaced by some decking and a patio set, the umbrella sagging under the weight of the snow. 

Simon, a little greyer and with middle age spread rather more noticeable than when Andy had seen him last, opened the door. “Come on in. I'd wondered if you be a bit late what with the snow,” he said moving so that Andy could get inside and out of the cold. “How were the roads?” Simon asked, then noticing the landrover added, “Although nothing short of the next Ice Age looks like it would stop that.”

“Not too bad,” Andy replied, hanging up his coat. “I think everybody was trying to get into Cardiff f  
for the sales rather than out.” 

“Ah yes,” Simon said amused. “The yearly mad push and shove to buy slightly cheaper things that you didn't really need in the first place. Honestly, putting together the maths homework for my class for next term has end up being more appealing than the sales.”

Turning to Tom, Simon said, “You must be Tom.” He held out his hand. “It's nice to meet you. I don't know what Andy's said about me or the family, but we aren't that bad really.”

Tom shook his hand. “He were nice about you, and it seems like he were right. So it's nice to meet you too.”

Andy felt the knot of worry in his chest loosen a little, relieved that Simon was as positive about his relationship with Tom as he'd seemed on the phone. It made his Mum's reaction feel all the worse. The openness and warmth here was what he'd wanted back in Cardiff. That he'd probably never get it, not after everything that had happened, hurt.

“I know that look,” Simon said. “You're worrying about something.”

“I was just thinking about mum,” Andy replied wondering if he should have pretended he was just thinking about the weather and how much snow there would be in the Elen Valley.

Simon sighed. “Mum's not exactly my favourite person right now. First what she said to Rach about her job, and now this with you.” He shook his head. “I know it's probably a generational thing, but you've have thought she could have at least learnt a bit of tact in seventy odd years.”

“This is Mum,” Andy said, almost finding it funny. “You remember the business about Uncle Evan's tattoo or even Aunt Jean hat at David's wedding. I don't think she knows the meaning of the word.”

Simon laughed “I've not thought about the hat in years. It really did look like a squashed parrot, but I don't think many people would have said it loud enough for the whole reception to hear.” The smile faded. “She might come round to you being gay eventually.”

Andy sighed and shook his head. He didn't want to get into a conversation about how he wasn't actually gay. It was hard enough people getting their heads around you liking the same sex, never mind that you could actually like both without being some kind of promiscuous sex addict. “I don't it will happen,” he said eventually. “And I'm not going to wait for it to before I live my life.”

“No one would expect you to, at least they shouldn't,” Simon said. “Now, you want to come through to the front room, and I'll go get the kettle on in a minute.”

“Well he's not quite what I imagined,” Simon said once they were in the front room, as he looked at Tom, who was talking to Ben about the film he'd just put on.

“No,” Andy said carefully, worried suddenly where Simon was going with this.

“He's a lot shorter and younger than I thought you'd have gone for, well based on your old girlfriends at least.” 

“He seems nice to me,” Rachel said coming over to them. “So, will we be getting a wedding invitation or is it too soon for that?”

Andy looked at Tom. He'd not really thought about it. They were happy as they were, they didn't need a bit of paper to say that. “A bit soon,” he replied a little self-consciously. “We've only been together for four months.”

“So how did you meet him?” Louise asked, apparently able to carry on a separate conversation while texting. 

“Lou, really,” Simon said sounding rather exasperated like this was the sort of thing that Louise did all the time. He looked at Tom who had obviously heard and then back at Andy. “You really don't have to answer that.”

“Nah, it's alright, it's nothin' dodgy,” Tom said. “I were looking for somewhere to camp and stopped to ask for directions, and then Andy fell through the roof and I had to get him out. And then we just sort of started living together. That's it really.” 

“That's so romantic,” Louise exclaimed, actually stopping texting for a moment and smiling at them. “It's so much cooler than meeting at work or at the bus stop or something like that.” 

Baffled at what teenagers found cool, but relieved by her acceptance, Andy decided if Louise was in any way representative of the youth of today then perhaps the future would be a more accepting place. 

“You fell through a roof?” Simon asked, sounding like he couldn't decide whether to be worried or amused. “Now that I didn't hear about.” 

“I didn't tell anyone,” Andy said, feeling like he had to defend his decision. “I wasn't hurt, what was the point of making Mum or any of you worry?”

“I suppose there's that. She would have wanted you to leave the farm she'd known. She does worry about you, even if she has a funny way of showing it.” 

“Jus' as well you didn't tell her about the cow shed then,” Tom said, then gave Andy an apologetic look, although whether it was for mentioning it, mentioning his mum or both Andy wasn't sure. 

Simon looked at them both and then said, “Do I want to know?” 

“It was just a small accident,” Andy said quickly, hoping that would be the end of it. 

Tom gave him a disbelieving look and then said, “You broke your ribs. I wouldn't call that nothin'.” 

“It was months ago, I'm fine. Really,” Andy said, feeling more than a little uncomfortable that everybody was looking at him now. “I'm sure nobody wants to hear about it.” 

Simon at least seemed to take the hint and said, “Right then, I'll make some tea.” He looked at Andy. “You can give me a hand if you like.”

Although posed as a suggestion, Andy knew Simon well enough to know that meant ' I want to ask, you something in private.' “Okay,” he replied, hoping that things weren't about to start falling apart or that he was about to get some bad news. 

Rachel seemed to get what Simon meant too, and said, “Well I'll want the kitchen back in a few minutes as the food is nearly done, so don't make too much of a mess.”

Simon gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “When do I ever make a mess?”

Rachel laughed. “You really want me to answer that?” Go on. I'll have a coffee.”

“Are you okay, really I mean?” Simon asked, once he and Andy were away from everybody else. “You were always saying you were fine as a kid, even when you weren't. You never wanted to worry anyone. Only I heard some stuff from Mum about last year, about you leaving the police. I know she's not the most sympathetic of people, but she was worried about you in her way, so I'm guessing it was pretty bad.” He stopped, looking uncertain if he should say more before finally continuing, “Look you probably don't want me to go on about it, but if you ever need anything, anyone to talk to, you call and I'll come and do the big brother bit, okay?”

Andy nodded. It had been hard enough talking about it to Tom, when he knew he could fall apart for a while, having Tom there, its made a difference, a big difference.

“I'm happy you've got someone, but family is still family, and if anything happens, I mean, if things don't work out...”

“Don't.” Andy glared at him, wondering if Simon was going to start into some spiel about how relationships like his and Tom's wouldn't last. 

“I don't mean because he's a man,” Simon said holding up a hand, trying to defuse a situation before it began. “But he is a lot younger than you and you said yourself that you've only been together for a few months. He's what nineteen? twenty? At that age you've barely worked out anything about your life, let alone who you want to be with for the rest of it.”

“He's twenty two. The same age Mum was when she married Dad,” Andy said, hating the doubts that Simon had planted in his mind. “And he's probably more grown up than anybody else that age I know. He's had it so hard, you wouldn't believe it how much he's lost or what he's not had in the first place. He's got nobody else. No family at all.” 

“Dependency isn't the best base for a relationship,” Simon pointed out. 

“He's not dependent on me or anybody,” Andy said, knowing that it was the truth. If Tom wanted he could get up and go one day and be completely fine. He swallowed hard, not wanting to think about it. Because while Tom might be fine he knew with a level of certainty that terrified him that he wouldn't be. Tom was as central to his life as the farm and the peace and quiet of the Elan Valley where he'd started to put his life back together. Perhaps even more so, as while he could, if he tried, imagine living somewhere else, he couldn't imagine doing it with out Tom there by his side. 

Simon had a point though and it worried him. Tom was almost of a different generation than himself. He was closer in age to his niece and nephew than he was to him. Tom would only be in his early thirties when he hit middle aged. What if he didn't want to be stuck with an old bloke? What if they found themselves wanting different things in life? What if Tom didn't want to settle down? What if... Stop it. Stop winding yourself up right now, Andy told himself. Tom was different and it wasn't a generational thing, it was a Tom thing. Tom was like nobody else he'd ever known, although sometimes his unwavering enthusiasm and certainty that things would go right in the end reminded him of how Gwen had been before Torchwood had wormed its way into their lives. 

“Hey,” Simon said, trying to get his attention. “I'm not trying ruin things. I hope you make a go of it and prove Mum wrong, and that I can give an embarrassing speech if you get married and that you get all you want out of life together. But if you don't, for whatever reason, I just want you to know you're no where near as alone as you think you are.” 

Andy nodded, torn between being grateful and not wanting to think about a situation where he no longer had Tom to turn to for support. 

“I'll go Rach know the kitchen is free again, before I say something stupid,” Simon said, before going through to the kitchen.

“You've got a funny look on,” Tom said, when Andy went back into the front room. “Nothin' wrong, is it?”

“No.” Andy made the effort to smile and shook his head. “I was just thinking how lucky I am to have you.”

“Right, food is almost ready,” Rachel said, a few minutes later, taking off the novelty Christmas apron with its googly eyed reindeer. “I've put some of it out on the table, if you all want go and sit down. And Lou, no texting at the table.” 

“Have you invited the whole street?” Simon said, looking at the table. 

“No, but I didn't want us to run out. Anyway you can save extras and turn it into other stuff,” Rachel said, putting the dishes onto the table so that everybody could help themselves. “It only when you don't have enough it's a problem.” 

“That's right clever that,” Tom said, going through and sitting down. “Me Dad used to say things like that.”

Andy looked at his brother and family and Tom all sitting down to dinner together. It was more than he had hoped would have ever happened. Perhaps in time, he hoped, the rest of his family would come to accept him and Tom as well. 

 

part 26 TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N  
> Bedknobs and Broomsticks is a kids film about two WW2 evacuees who end up staying with a wannabe witch and end up saving the UK from invasion by getting a load of ghosts of knights/Roman soldiers to help them. It seems to be on around Christmas time most years, rather like The Sound of Music and The Great Escape.


	26. Chapter 26

After everything that had happened over Christmas the New Year had been very quiet. Not that Tom had minded. The days spent lounging around the farmhouse, taking the occasional walk either down to Elan village or around the reservoirs, just being together or catching up on sleep, had been just what they'd needed. 

New Year and work had eventually resurfaced and Andy had thrown himself back into planning, ordering things and getting quotes from a variety of trades about what needed to be done so that they could open as a camp site by the summer. While for himself, although the farmer market where he sold his carvings was reasonably quiet at present, Mrs Griffifth's had asked him to help out there for a few days while she was off sick, having picked up some bug from her grandchildren. 

The chance at earning a little extra money, especially with Andy's birthday just a couple of months away, and with the hope that perhaps it might become a more regular thing, Tom had agreed. It had been good too, talking to the customers and all that, he thought as he paused at the started to the track back up to the farm. At least up until the point he'd ended up with same bug Mrs Griffifths and her grandchildren had had. Then it had been pretty miserable.

Still he'd only had a couple of days working with it and tomorrow was Sunday, he told himself, and he'd have a lay in. Or at least until the evening, at which point the full moon would rise and he'd have to think of an excuse for disappearing for the night. No suitable one had yet come to mind, but Tom decided that was mainly because his head felt like it was filled with particularly spiky cotton wool at the moment.

After checking the letter box end of the track and wondering how it was possible to feel both too hot and too cold at the same time, Tom pulled his coat tighter about him and set off slowly through the deep snow that covered the Elan Valley and had settled in drifts along the roads and trackways. 

The valley did look pretty amazing under the thick blanket of snow which had been slowly added to every few days since Christmas. So far the gritters had kept the main roads clear, but the with heavy, yellowish-white clouds that hung overhead, Tom wondered just how long that would be the case. The track up to the farm was already near impassable even for the landrover, and after another decent snowfall and it definitely would be. It was one of the reasons that he'd not called Andy to come and get him, that and the fact that he'd hoped that getting out in the cold, fresh air would help unblock his nose and make his throat feel a little less raw. 

Not that it had worked, he thought miserably, stopping again so that he could lean against one of the trees as he coughed. Everything that could ache seemed to and Tom decided that he was almost looking forward to transforming, as hopefully the change of shape would get rid of the bug. As a cold cure though he doubted it would ever catch on. Not that he'd ever transformed while sick before. Generally he didn't get many colds, although that could have been because in recent years most of the people he spent time with couldn't get them due to being dead. 

It had been years since he'd felt as rough as he did now, Tom thought. He'd still been living with his dad in the van then. McNair had been worried enough about him at the time to take him down to a drop in clinic that had been set up primarily to treat a traveller families who lived at a nearby camp site. It had been one of the Tom's less than favourite memories, as after sitting there for ages they were pretty much told to go away and not sit in the waiting room sharing flu germs with everybody else. It had only served to reinforce Tom's opinion that McNair was right and that doctors were best avoided. 

Hoping that he wouldn't end up feeling as bad as he'd done then – sweating and shivering in the back of the van, half convinced the trees were walking around outside - Tom started walking again. Even if it had been horrible, he reminded himself, it had shown him how much his dad had cared, he'd stayed by him pretty much all time he'd been sick and not gone out to hunt vampires even once. 

The walk back to the farmhouse took far longer than usual and it was almost dark when Tom let himself into the farmhouse. Feeling frozen and aching, he tried to be as quiet as he could, hoping that he could warm up a little before Andy saw him and started worrying about him. The change from cold damp air to warm and dry though set off a fresh bout of coughing before he could even get his coat off. 

Andy who'd been sitting at the kitchen table when Tom had come in, put down the drainage and plumbing plans for the barn to shower block conversation and went over to him. “You walked back, didn't you?” Andy asked, sounding somewhere between annoyed and concerned, when Tom had finally stopped coughing. “You should have called me. You sound awful.”

Sitting down heavily on the sofa, Tom knew there was no point disagreeing about the sounding awful part. His throat felt raw from coughing, while his chest had joining in aching with the rest of him. “I thought the walk would do me good,” he said trying to justify it. “Any way, you've never got the landy down to the road.”

“I could have,” Andy said, helping Tom get out of his coat. “I took an evasive driving course, you know.” 

“You can't avoid the snow,” Tom said and he tried to untie his boots, numb fingers fumbling over the snow soaked laces. “It's bloomin' everywhere an' I reckon there'll be more of it tonight.”

Andy looked at him for a moment then bent down to help him with his boots. “Alright.” 

“You not gonna argue?” 

“No. You sound rough enough that you really don't need it. So I'm going to get you some honey, lemon and some painkillers and hope that you start looking bit better soon.”

“A hot water bottle'd be nice an' all,” Tom said wondering if he was pushing his luck now. He knows his Dad would have thought so. 

“You're cold?” Andy said, looking at Tom's flushed face and frowning. He pressed his hand to Tom's forehead. You're not you know.” Leaning over, he kissed him. “You should be in bed.” 

“I should probably stay on the sofa,” Tom said, not wanting to have to move anywhere any time soon. “Don't want you catching it.”

“If I'm going to get it I will, regardless of where you're sleeping.” Andy held out a hand and helped pull Tom to his feet. “So you might as well be comfortable. I'm not using the laptop at the moment, so you can have that in there if you want.”

Tom shook his head. Looking at small, bright screen in dimly lit room sounded like something that would make the pounding in his head worse rather than better. Going from sitting to standing and shaking his head at almost the same time had been something of an error, Tom decided as the room felt like it had started to spin. 

“Definitely bed,” Andy said, keeping an arm around him as they made their way through to the bedroom. 

“Right, I'll go get you a drink,” Andy said once he'd helped Tom out of his clothes and got him settled under the covers. 

“You don't have to,” Tom said, more out of an instilled idea of politeness than any real desire to have to get it himself. Not moving any time soon seemed like a good plan in Tom's opinion. He knew he could if he had to, but having somebody who wanted to look after him was nicer and less awkward than he'd thought it would be. 

“I want to,” Andy replied, heading for the door back into the kitchen. “You've looked after me often enough.” 

Lying down was good, Tom thought as he waited for Andy to come back, the room felt decidedly less spinny than it had and, now huddled under a thick duvet, he was marginally less cold. He'd feel better soon and then Andy wouldn't have to fuss and worry. He didn't like worrying him, especially not after what had happened over Christmas. 

Andy had been different since what had happened at his Mums. More settled in some ways, which had been a surprise, although Tom put that down to Simon having been good about it all. There was an odd brittleness though that seemed to catch Andy some times. He'd snap about something he saw on the news or in the papers, a harsh vein of sarcasm in his words that Tom hadn't really heard before. It was never directed at him, and Tom knew that for all Andy said that the ongoing situation with his mother refusing to acknowledge their relationship was behind him, it wasn't and this was how it was coming out. 

Things would get better, Tom decided, closing his eyes and settling back against the pillows. Sometimes things just worked themselves out on there own. Like the vampire biker lady back in Rhayader back before Christmas. He'd had a replied back from Hal about her, which could, despite covering several pages, have been summed up as 'I have no idea, but I don't want to admit it.' Hal not knowing who she was though was still useful in one sense. It meant she hadn't been an old one or a young and power hungry one who'd made a name for themselves. Harmless but really annoying like most of the vampires out there. 

All the same, Tom told himself, if he ever got the chance he'd stake her or follow her to where they had the dog fights and stake the lot of them before they got to ruin anybody else's lives. Yet to do that he'd have to go on a full moon, he'd have to slip away without telling Andy anything about where he was going or why. But what if it went wrong? What if they caught him and he ended up being the one in the cage? What if went even more wrong? If he was killed. Andy would never know what had happened to him, He'd have just slipped out one night never to return. He couldn't do that. Couldn't put Andy through something like that, not when he could just avoid the vampires rather than go looking for trouble. “I won't leave you,” Tom promised. 

“I should hope not. It's freezing out there. You were...”

Tom opened his eyes to see Andy had come back bringing the promised hot lemon. 

Andy stopped, something raw and fearful in his eyes as he put down the mug on the bedside table and took Tom's hand in his. “Is something wrong? I mean really wrong, you would tell me?”

“'course of I would,” Tom promised him quickly, wishing that he'd been a little more careful about not staying certain things aloud. “I'm jus' feeling a bit ropey an' not really thinking what I'm saying.” 

“If you're sure,” Andy said, sitting down on the edge of the bed, still looked worried.

“Yeah.” Tom drank some of the lemon, barely tasting it. “I just need some sleep that's all.” 

 

 

* * *

 

It had not been a good night, Tom thought as he lay on the sofa the following morning. The shivering, sweating and coughing had not eased over night, and had been added to now by being sick every few hours or so. Even the usually energy that seemed to precede a transformation seemed to be lacking. Or perhaps it was still there and it was just that he'd have felt even worse without it. 

Andy had suggested that he should stay in bed, but Tom had told him that he didn't feel any better from it so he'd try watching a bit of telly instead in the hope that it might take his mind off it. So sore and miserable, Tom listlessly flicked through TV channels for something that might actually distract him for a while.

Bit was all a bit rubbish really, he decided. One channel had a smarmy presenter patronising his increasingly odd guest as they argued and complained about things like their boyfriend running off to Spain with their Granny or finding the hotel they were going to stay at was really a shopping centre. Other channels provided gardening – which he found boring, cooking – which made him feel a bit sick or quiz shows that his frazzled brain refused to follow. All in all it was 

He doubted Andy had had much sleep with him moving about restlessly half the night. Not that Andy had complained. There probably wasn't time for complaining with the amount of worrying that Andy seemed to be doing. 

“Nothing on?” Andy said, sitting down beside him.

Tom shook his head. “Why do they make all this stuff? Who would want to what it?”

“Lots of people I suppose, or they wouldn't put it on.” Andy moved slightly so that Tom could rest his head against his shoulder. “I could put on a film if you like?”

It was worth a try Tom thought. At the very least it was kind of nice being able to lean against Andy, it made him feel marginally better. “Alright, I don't mind what. Well not that alien one with the stomach. I don't think that'd be a good idea.”

“Okay.” Andy took the TV control and after a short while of grumbling about the sub menus found the connection to the extra external hard drive they'd got for they laptop so they could store films. “What about one about knights and castle. Based on real history apparently.” 

Tom nodded, then closed his eyes, trying to avoid the rather took bright trailers that filled the screen prior to the film. 

It probably was a decent film, there seemed to be a lot of fighting and plot going on, but as a distraction from how rubbish he was feeling it was failing. Noticing that Tom seemed less than enthralled, Andy paused the film. “Not your thing?”

“Don't think anything my thing right now,” Tom replied, voice hoarse from too much coughing. 

“You can take something. There's nothing noble about suffering in silence, you know,” Andy said getting up. “I'll see what we've got.” 

With the extra space on the sofa Tom stretched out, wondering if he got any tireder whether he could sleep and if in fact tireder was actually a word, and if it wasn't whether it really should be. 

After a couple of minutes Andy returned with a couple of packets and a glass of water. Sitting on the arm of the sofa he held them out to Tom. “You can take one or the other or both as they are different stuff.” He pointed at one of the packets. “This one is supposed to help you sleep if you've got the flu.”

Sleep sounded good. If he could sleep he'd be alright, Tom decided, then he could figure out what to do about tonight. George had told him once that he'd managed to sleep right through a transformation by taking something. It wasn't a good idea to do it month after month as the wolf got cranky and made you do weird stuff until you let it out properly. How much or of what Tom didn't know, George hadn't been particularly forthcoming about it and he'd not really ever considered it as a viable solution. 

Normally he just put up with things, like his dad had done. Whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger, he'd said. He didn't feel strong right now though, he he was honest felt just about as wretched as he'd ever felt in his entire life. Nodding, he took the offered tablets and water. 

“Do you want to go back to bed?” Andy asked, taking back the glass only once Tom had drunk all the water. 

“Nah.” Moving didn't seem like it would gain much as he was almost approaching comfortable at the moment, so Tom shook his head. “I'll move if I think I'm gonna sleep.”

“Alright.” Andy gave his shoulder a quick squeeze. “I'm going to go over the plans and costings for getting the farm track sorted out. No point opening a camp site if nobody can get to it. If you need anything just give me a shout.” 

Tom nodded and closed his eyes. It was good that Andy had found something else to focus on, even though Tom was sure that Andy was actually having to push himself to do it, rather than it being something he wanted to do. It had to be better than worrying. Knowing that he was the source of at least some of Andy worry wasn't a nice feeling. Neither was the fact that he'd have to find a way of leaving him alone tonight so he could change. 

Andy was too stressed with other stuff to deal with the whole werewolf thing right now, Tom decided, plus he really didn't feel up to dealing with telling him at the moment. Thoughts about how and when he should tell Andy and what the result would be chased themselves around his head until stuff that Andy had given him started to work. The thoughts and throbbing in his head as well as the background noise of the TV slowly slipped away as Tom finally fell into a much needed sleep. 

 

TBC Part 27


	27. Chapter 27

Looking up from the plans, quotes and assorted other pieces of paper that were spread out over the kitchen table, Andy sighed. Getting the farm track tarmacked or gravelled from the main road up to the house was going to be a lot more expensive than he'd thought possible. Perhaps he could advertise it as the ultimate getaway from it all campsite – you have to have your own 4x4 to get to it, unless you wanted to walk carrying all your camping gear. Or perhaps he could arrange a collection service, with him picking up pre-booked campers from the nearest bus stop or station. He'd talk it over with Tom once he was feeling better. 

Stretching, Andy looked around at where Tom was sleeping restlessly on the sofa, his face still not quite relaxed even in sleep. It worried him to see Tom sick and so unlike his usual full of energy self. Rationally he knew that he was young, fit and otherwise healthy, and that in a few days he'd bounce back to normal. Yet he still couldn't shake the fear that something was terribly wrong. The fact that he knew that once he wouldn't have felt such panic somehow made it worse, like he was failing Tom by being worried, that somehow the worry would hurt him more than being sick.

It was anxiety talking. Andy was sure of that. He'd talked to enough people and read enough of the self help information that they'd given him early on after leaving the force that half the battle was recognising the fears as being irrational. Then at least you had a starting point to try and break them down, deconstruct them. It wouldn't make them go away entirely, he'd still feel unsettled, but hopefully the simmering fear would drop back enough to where he was controlling it rather it controlling him.   
Getting up, Andy went over to the window. It was snowing again. Fat, soft flakes falling thick and fast across the already heavily covered landscape. Better get some more wood in, Andy decided. Then pulling on a heavy coat, gloves and boots he went outside.

The snow was piled up in the farmyard, the wind having blown it into deep drifts. Including one, he noted dismally, that had formed around the landrover, meaning that they'd would have to dig it out if they wanted to use it any times soon. Not that it was too much of problem - they were well stocked up on the things they needed to wait out the weather for a week or so.

After getting one of the sacks of wood that Tom had chopped back when the weather had been better back in the summer, Andy went back inside. He had just put the sack of wood down by the range, when he heard Tom give as gasp of pain and fall off the sofa with a thump.

“Hey, you okay?” Andy said crouching down beside Tom, feeling the heat radiating off him. “You should really go back to bed.”

Tom looked at him bleary eyed and confused. “Think so." He looked at the darkened windows. "What's the time?”

“Nearly five,” Andy replied, hoping that Tom wouldn't claim it was too early to go back to bed. He'd hoped that letting him rest of the sofa would have helped, but if anything Tom looked worse than before.

Tom gave him a panicked looked before he all but jumped off the sofa, getting tangled in the duvet as he did. “I got to go out.”

“Out?" Andy said surprised. "Don't be daft. It's dark and snowing, and you're really aren't well.”

“I can't stay here. I gotta go. I..” Tom suddenly doubled over, a look of shock on his face.

“Tom?” Andy put out a hand towards him.

“No. It's too late,” Tom gasped, stumbling away from him and looking round wildly. “I gotta find...” He shuddered again, pain etched on his face as he grabbed at the back of the sofa for support. 

Trying to push down the panic that Tom was now so feverish he was hallucinating, Andy reverted to what he hoped was his best 'I'm in charge' policeman's voice and said “I think you need to lie down for a minute and tell me what's wrong.”

“I can't, no time,” Tom said, all but crying now. “I'm sorry. I...” He stopped then dropped to his knees, snarling, “Ger away from me.” When he looked up his eyes were yellow, the pupil a vertical slit and when he opened his mouth Andy could swear his teeth were longer and more pointed.

Andy jumped back, nearly falling over a chair. Any pretence of calm or control gone he stared at Tom wide eyed and scared. Whatever was wrong with him it wasn't flu or at least that wasn't all that was wrong. Before he could say anything, Tom stumbled past him, heading for the old coal cellar. 

“Lock it,” Tom called back to him, pleading he closed the door. “Don't let me out, please. Whatever happens, whatever you hear, don't open it, not 'til morning.”

Heart racing, mind refusing to think past carrying out what Tom had asked, Andy pushed an old, heavy wooden chest in front of the door, then piled a couple of bags of plaster and cement on top of it. There was no way to see what was happening inside the room. There was no gap in the door and even if there were the room was pitch dark as there was no light fitting in it. Tom's muffled gasps of pain rapidly gave way to agonising cries before he went silent. For a moment Andy could hear nothing but his own pounding heartbeat and the wind outside, and then there was a howl from inside that raised the hairs on the back of Andy's neck and sent a shiver down his spine.

Shaking, Andy backed away from the room. He'd left Cardiff and all of its weird alien crap to end up living with and falling in love with... a what, a werewolf? Maybe werewolves were actually a type of alien. There was something bitterly ironic in it somewhere, he supposed, and a harsh laugh caught in his throat, turning to a near hysterical sob before it was done.

Leaning back against the wall, Andy slowly let himself slip down it until he was sat on the floor, knees near his chin. It wasn't fair. Why the hell did his life have to be so full of weird shit? Why couldn't he just get to be happy?

Tom had known what was happening to him, that was clear, he thought angrily. This wasn't something that Tom hadn't known about. Tom had lied to him the whole time. All the times he'd slipped out late at night, supposedly to get back to nature, whatever that had meant, had this been what he was doing? Andy shivered as the creature snarled again and scratched at the bare stone. 

He covered his ears with his hands trying to block out the noise. How could Tom who'd seemed so honest, even painfully so sometimes, have lied to him about something so important? He closed his eyes feeling tears burning behind them. Yet how could he have told him? Where do you even start to reveal something like that? He wondered. He hadn't been able to tell his family about his sexuality even after more than ten years of being certain, why should he expect Tom to have been able to tell him in just a few short months about something like this? 

It hurt though that Tom hadn't been able to trust him. That, if he was honest, hurt more than the fact that he'd kept it a secret. They would definitely be having words about this later, and then, hopefully, eventually it would all be out in the open and then maybe they'd be alright. 

Opening his eyes, Andy wiped them on his sleeve, surprised that he was actually considering continuing to have a relationship with a werewolf or whatever the hell it was that Tom had turned into. Yet what other choice was there? To give up on the one person who'd ever made him truly happy? That felt like no choice at all. It came down it to it the simple decision between Tom or no Tom, having Tom with him would win every time. 

Part of his mind screamed at him, telling him he was mad to even contemplate it. The rest of it was already desperately trying to rationalise it. He'd seen odder things in Cardiff after all. Okay he'd not been sleeping with them and he hadn't been entertaining thoughts of proposals and lives together, but there were definitely odder things out there than a boyfriend who had one bad night a month, so in the grand scheme of things it was probably alright. 

“What the fuck am I going to do?” Andy said aloud to the empty room. He looked at his phone lying on the table. Maybe he should call Gwen. And then what? Things that weren't human and who came to Torchwood's notice generally didn't get seen again. The fact that Torchwood used to be armed was no secret. He shivered and closed his eyes again. He couldn't let them know, couldn't let anyone know. What if they took Tom away or worse? He'd have to live with that forever, with the knowledge that he'd hurt somebody who'd been nothing but good to him. 

No wonder Tom hadn't told him, Andy thought sadly. He must have lived his whole life terrified of discovery. It made his own fear of telling his family feel petty. It hadn't been, it had been genuine, but at that moment his own worries about his family not talking to him any more paled next to Tom probable fear of death or imprisonment. 

Creature that was apparently Tom snarled chose that moment to howl, sounding as lost and frustrated as Andy felt. If anybody tried to keep Tom locked up it would destroy him. Tom who was always so much more at home outdoors, who knew so much of the surrounding area like he lived there all his life and who seemed to need the peace and quiet of it sometimes, just as he did, to help get his thoughts in order. 

No, Andy told himself, whatever happened between them after this he'd never share Tom's secret with anyone, unless Tom had agreed to it first. 

Unable to sleep, Andy had eventually got up off the floor and sat on the sofa, mind churning through all the things that should have alerted him to there being something odd with Tom.   
There were too many questions to which he had no answers and would have none until Tom was in a position to hopefully given them to him. 

Around two in the morning the noise in the cellar lessened and eventually stopped. Scared at what this new turn of events might mean and not wanting to have his hopes dashed that Tom was his old self once more, Andy waited another half hour before cautiously approaching the door to the coal cellar.

“Tom? Tom, are you you again?” Andy called quietly as first, not wanting to startle him, then again a little louder when he got no response. “Tom? please say something.”

The absence of any kind of sound from the room scared him, and after moving the things he'd piled in front of the door just enough to open crack, Andy got a torch and shone it through the narrow opening. Just visible against the back wall was Tom. Human once more, he was naked, filthy from all the coal dust, and shivering fitfully as he lay on the bitterly cold stone floor. 

Hurrying through to the living room Andy grabbed the blanket that had been thrown over the back of the sofa. Shifting the things that had blocked the door so that he could get it fully open, Andy wondered at just how he'd thought he'd able to fend off werewolf with duvet. Only it wasn't a werewolf or whatever it was any more, he reminded himself. Tom was Tom again. Tom who made him cups of tea with too many sugars, who'd laugh too loud at old comedies and who seemed to love him more than anything else in his life. 

The coal cellar was freezing cold compared to the rest of the farmhouse, and Tom's skin felt cold and clammy as he put a hand on his shoulder. “Tom, are you...” he stopped. Awake? Alright? Human? All seem equally valid.

Tom groaned and opened his eyes, although didn't move. “Yer still 'ere,” he said, voice hoarse and scratchy.

Relief that Tom was actually Tom again washed over him, and Andy put the blanket round him. “Where else would I go?”

“Away. Anywhere away from me,” Tom said miserably, making no effort to get up from the cold stone floor.

"We're just about snowed in," Andy pointed out, and then wished he hadn't as he really didn't want him to think that that was the only reason he'd stayed. Leaving Tom hadn't actually been amongst any of the options he'd give serious consideration to. When Tom didn't reply or even acknowledge what he'd said, Andy shook his shoulder gently. "You've got to get up, you're freezing."

"'M okay," Tom mumbled, curling in on himself.

“You're not. You'll make yourself ill, well more ill," he corrected himself, remembering how sick he'd been just a few hours before. "Where would you have changed?” Andy said mostly to himself, thinking of the thick snow covering the landscape outside.

Moving finally, Tom sat up and pulled the blanket around himself. Not meeting Andy's eyes, he said quietly, “Up on the moors somewhere.”

“You'd have frozen,” Andy said horrified. If Tom hadn't have got the flu he'd have been out the snow storm still raging across the hills. “You could have died.”

“Might have bin for the best,” Tom replied sounding dazed and miserable as he staggered to his feet. “'cause at least you'd never have known what I am. And you wouldn't hate me.”

“Don't be so bloody stupid,” Andy snapped. How could Tom think that? How could he put so little value on his life? "Of course I don't hate you."

“But I've ruined everythin'. I'm sorry. I should go.” Pulling away from him, Tom managed about half a dozen steps towards the door, before he tripped over the edge blanket and landed in a heap on the floor. Shivering and exhausted he tried to push himself up. Failing, arms trembling with the effort, Tom gave up and lay on the floor and wept.

As much as the fact that Tom had lied to him hurt, seeing him like this; sick, scared and believing he was worthless and unloved was, Andy decided, much, much worse. Crouching down, he pulled Tom against him, holding him close, hushing any protests that he wasn't worth it.

At the end of the day this was Tom. Tom who'd always been there for him, who'd helped him no matter what, who'd been kind and patient when things had got too much for him, and who had out of fear and some kind of desire to protect him had shouldered the burden of his terrible secret alone. He'd let it silently eat away at him and until he'd come to believe that his life was worthless if anyone knew what he was. Yet wouldn't that be true if the world in general found out? He wouldn't be allowed to live and love like he had, he be confined somewhere, prodded and poked in the name of science. There would be no such thing as basic human rights for him, no appeals for freedom, because they'd see him as less than human, something to be feared. Andy knew all too well how people could turn on you, but it would be nothing compare to what could happen to Tom if he were caught.

“Why'd you still care?” Tom said hoarsely, from where he was slumped against Andy. 

“Because I love you,” Andy replied. Maybe at nearly thirty one he should be too old to believe that love solves everything, and perhaps he was, but at the very least, he thought, it gave him the strength and will to try. What he had with Tom these last few months, how he'd made him feel better and more alive than he'd done in years, well he wasn't going to give up with out a fight. 

Tom looked up at him for the first time since he'd changed. His eyes were human again and filled with tears. “I don't deserve it. I don't deserve you. I lied. And I'm stupid, 'cause I thought I could be human an'...” He stopped as series of harsh coughs shook him.

Apparently transforming didn't cure the flu, Andy thought, and then decided that was definitely unfair. It had sounded like absolute agony to change, surely there should be at least a few upsides to it? It was only one of a number of questions that he knew that he had to ask, needed to ask before perhaps him and Tom would be alright again. Pushing for answers now though seemed cruel when Tom was obviously suffering.

Rubbing Tom's back, Andy asked the only question that he guessed really had to be asked right now. “You're not going to change again are you?”

Tom shook his head. “Not for another month.”

“Well then,” Andy said, helping Tom to his feet. “Let's get you warmed up. Then we can talk.”

A short while later Tom sat silently in the tin bath in front of the fire as Andy washed the grime from him, shivering worse now that he was starting to properly register the fact that he was cold. Andy was starting doubt that they would actually manage any kind conversation tonight, as Tom seemed in no fit state to do anything other that go to bed, when Tom finally spoke.

“I were a proper human once,” Tom said, as Andy wiped a warm cloth across his shoulders. “I don't remember it though, I was just a baby when I got scratched up by a werewolf. That's what them scars on me back and head are. It's why I didn't wanna talk about them.”

“Your dad stayed with you,” Andy said wonder in his voice. Dropping the flannel, he put an arm around him. He couldn't imagine what it must have been like to have your child attacked and then to find out it had become something not quite human. The love he must have had to stick by his son, to keep his secret from the world. Tom's strange childhood had been the product of a man's struggle to keep his son safe. It brought a lump to his throat to even think about the lonely, frightening life it must have been for them. For all that Tom had talked of McNair before this was the first time that Andy thought he'd like to have shook the man's hand. 

“McNair weren't my dad, not like you mean,” Tom said picking at the edge of the flannel. “He were the one which clawed me when he... when my original mum and dad died. He didn't mean to do it, but when you've got the wolf on you can't control it, you can't even remember what you did.” Tom's shoulders started to shake, but he pushed on anyway. “So when he came to in the morning, an' found them and found me, and realised what he'd done, he took me in and looked after me.” He looked at Andy, tears in his eyes again. “I know it sounds all wrong, but he really did care about me. All we had were each other, and I really, really miss him.” 

With his arm still around him, Andy helped Tom to stand and then held him tight. He could feel the water soaking into his own clothes and Tom shivering and shaking against him, and in all likelihood crying for all that he'd lost. 

There was nothing he could say to make it better, so Andy held him, pressed kisses to the thick scars that ran across his head and tried not to listen to his own fears. Tom needed him to be the strong one, at least for a while. He didn't feel strong in the least, but he loved Tom and that, Andy hoped, would be enough. 

 

TBC


	28. Chapter 28

How Andy could still bear to be around him Tom had no idea. Lying, hiding the fact that he wasn't proper human and nearly transforming in front of him all felt pretty unforgivable, yet apparently Andy still loved him enough to hold him close and kiss him. 

The kisses were alright, even if they were to the scars on his head, but being held was better, Tom thought as he stood shivering in the bath. Being held meant not falling over, which was a distinct possibility as his legs felt like jelly and his head was aching so badly that it made him feel lightheaded. 

“Come on, lets get you dry,” Andy said, loosening his grip so that he could grab a towel. “Then I suppose we should talk, if you feel up to it.”

“No, don't let go. Feel weird,” Tom said, holding on tightly to Andy's jumper, his legs feeling like they might give way at any moment. “Really dizzy.” 

“Does this happen every time?” Andy asked, keeping an arm about him as he helped Tom step out of the tin bath and walk unsteadily to the sofa. 

“No,” Tom said as he fell more than sat down. “Not before. Not been ill.”

“You've never been ill before?” Andy said, sounding even more worried than before, if that were possible. 

“No. I mean yes, I've bin ill. Not when I've changed.” Tom closed his eyes. It really wasn't fair that the room still seemed to be spinning when he was sitting down. Maybe if he leant forward a bit it would help, wasn't doing that that supposed to be good if you felt sick or faint? 

“Whoa.” 

Tom felt Andy grab his shoulder and pull him back. Opening his eyes, Tom asked, “What's wrong?”

“You nearly went face first off the sofa, that's what.” Sitting down next to him, Andy put an arm around him so he could lean forward without falling. “Should I be thinking about digging the landrover out and taking you to the nearest A and E or is this something werewolf-y that can't help with?” 

“No, no doctors. I'll be alright. I think I need to eat.” Tom said. Normally he'd have eaten while he was the wolf, either a few rabbits or a large part of a sheep, as it was he'd not had anything since mid morning the day before when he'd just about managed to keep down a couple of slices of toast. Changing took a lot of energy, it was why after being the wolf you woke up, rather than had to suffer through changing back. “Yeah, not eating, that probably it.”

Andy looked round at the range in the corner of the room, apparently wondering if Tom would be alright if he left him long enough to make something. “Would soup do? I could do you some soup. But you should lie down. I don't think you can fall over if you're lying down.” 

In the end, Andy heated up some chicken soup and got him a couple of slices of toast, and then sat with him while he ate it. The toast made his throat hurt and the soup made him feel rather queasy, but it seemed like it was going to stay in rather than out, so it was probably a win over all Tom decided. 

“You should probably sleep,” Andy said, putting the mug and plate on the table now that Tom was done with it. 

“What about you?” Tom asked, fairly certain that Andy wouldn't have slept yet either. Having a werewolf in the house wasn't really going to help you get a good nights sleep, was it? He'd put him through too much today already, the least he could do was let him get some rest. “You can have the bed. I'll stay here.”

“Is...is that what you want? For me to leave you alone?” Andy asked, sounding worried, eyes straying for a moment towards the front door, despite the fact that the snow storm could still be heard blowing outside. “Just promise me you won't try to leave if I do?” 

“No. I don't want that, but what I did...lying an' that, not telling you before we did things together, it weren't right. 'cause there's no way you'd have wanted me of you'd known.” Tom closed his eyes again, mind whirling. He felt sick and weak, and beyond disgusted with himself. “I shouldn't have done it. It ain't right, I ain't right. You should be angry with me and want me to go, and never come back an'...You shouldn't want to be with a thing like me. You're too good for me, I don't deserve you. I'm a thing that should live in the woods, not pretend to...” 

“Tom, please,” Andy said sounding close to tears himself as he pulled Tom against him. “I'm scared of losing you, not of you. Before I came here, back in Cardiff I saw some stuff, weird, horrible stuff. Creatures...” Andy shook his head. “I know you, you're not a thing. Changing, you were in so much pain, and you still thought about me first. Made sure I was safe.”

Before Tom could answer, he felt his stomach cramp and heave, the soup apparently having changed its mind about staying put, and he pushed at Andy's arm. “Let me go.”

“No. I love you and I going to keep saying it and holding you until you know I mean it. You coming into my life is the best thing that's ever happened to me. I don't want to lose it, lose you.” He looked at Tom, tears in his eyes. “I can't. This place, it's nothing without you.”

“No...the loo....sick” Tom said, painfully aware it was too late. 

“Oh. Oh no, sorry.” Andy let him go, although not quickly enough. 

X0X0X0X

 

The next couple of days were a miserable blur as the flu seemed to have returned with a vengeance, taking advantage or his exhausted post transformation state. Much of Tom's time was spent lying in bed, sweating, shivering, coughing and aching while awake, although even that, he decided, was preferable to the nightmares that came all to often when he finally slept. 

Real memories like finding his dad dead, blood spreading out over the floorboards or being locked in a cage with George and Nina for the dog fight, vampires cheering for their deaths all around them, were mixed with things like Hal going bad and ripping people's throats out in the cafe out or vampires getting to Andy, either killing him or turning him. The worse though was the one where he'd not got to the cellar in time and had attacked Andy. 

It had been vivid and horrible, the memories of just how warm fresh blood felt on his tongue and how loud and sharp bones were when snapped in a wolf's jaws had been dredged from somewhere deep in his subconscious and given terrifying form. Thankfully he'd only had that particular nightmare once, Tom suspected it however that it would haunt him for a very long time to come. 

Through out it all though, Andy had been there for him. Every time he'd woken up groggy and disorientated Andy had been there or had appeared a moment or two later. Water, juice or more of the flu remedy that seemed to knock him out were supplied as needed, as were food when he could finally manage it down and plenty of tissues. 

As reassuring as it was to know that Andy had apparently really meant all the things he'd said about loving him and wanting him in his life, it was actually a little wearing after a while, as Andy still seemed afraid he would leave if he left him alone for too long. It would get better in time, just like himself, Tom was sure of that. He knew how much Andy worried about things sometimes, and right now he was sure was he was the biggest source of concern. When it came down to it it was all his fault that Andy scared. 

Most of the bad things had happened because he was there, and that made it his fault, Tom thought as he stared up at the cracks in the ceiling, trying and failing to distract himself. Maybe his parents wouldn't have taken the holiday where and when they did so they wouldn't have got killed if he'd not been born. If it hadn't been for him insisting on going back to the hotel McNair would still be alive. George and Nina wouldn't have come into contact with the vampires organising the dog fights and the whole sorry chain of events that followed probably wouldn't have happened. 

He rolled over and stared out of the window at the snow covered moorland beyond the house. It didn't help. He'd brought his bad luck even here. He'd made Andy fall through a roof when they'd first met and then later had upset him so much he'd got careless and hurt himself while they'd worked on the old cow shed, and if that hadn't been enough he'd ruined Andy's relationship with his family and then he dropped all this werewolf stuff on him as well. 

Tom turned back to look at the ceiling, knowing he was going to get himself into a right state if he keep thinking. No, he told himself after a moment, what needed to do was up and give Andy the truth. He'd lied to him, now he owed him the truth and if that meant losing him that's what would happen. It'd be for the best, Andy would be better off without him, Tom told himself getting out of bed. It was no more than he deserved. 

“Are you sure you should be up?” Andy said, watching him walk slowly round to the kitchen table. “You still don't look that great.” 

“I'm gonna go nuts if I lie in bed much longer,” Tom replied, glad to sit down as he felt tired again already. “Any way, I need to tell you about stuff.” 

Looking like it was the last thing he really wanted to do, Andy said, “Shall I make us a cup of tea first?”

“Alright, 'cause this might take a while.” 

Andy seemed to take far longer than was necessary to make the tea, and by the time they were sat facing each other across the kitchen table, Tom was convinced that Andy wasn't going to listen to him. 

Starting with being a kid was easy. Talking moving around from town to town, about hunting for rabbits and taking things from the supermarkets when they needed to. Describing how he used to have to change in the van because his dad wanted to keep him safe. They were good memories, it might have been an odd childhood compare to everybody else's, but he'd never had any doubt how much his dad cared about him. Those times had ended though, and the memories that went with how it had happened and the guilt that it was his fault, cut too deep, and Tom's intention to remain composed while telling Andy faltered. 

“Then just when it all seemed to be goin' alright for us, me dad got hurt. His leg got cut up really bad, while we were trying to get some scrap out of this factory. We were near to the old hotel where George and Nina lived, so I made him go there. He didn't really want to go, but it were that or a hospital, and he hated hospitals even more.” Tom stopped and closed his eyes. He could see his dad, telling him that he should just get him to the van and bandage it up, otherwise Tom could have a stitching it, provided he made sure the needle were clean first. “I told him it'd be okay, I promised him it'd be safe and it weren't. So it were my fault really. If I hadn't made him go, maybe he'd not have bin killed. And maybe...”

“Tom, don't.” Andy took hold of his hand. “You don't have to do this, not yet. If its too much, if it's something that doesn't matter, I mean I know it matters to you, but if it doesn't change who you are, I'm not going to ask.”

“I have to. You should know what I am. I shoulda done this months ago. You should know what I'm like, what I've done. I mess everythin' up.” Tom hung his head, tears falling into his tea. “You know I didn't even get to stake it, the vampire that did for me dad. It should've bin me what did it. Feels like I let him down.”

“Would he really have wanted you to be a killer?” Andy asked, taking hold of his hand.

“It's what we did,” Tom said, looking up. “We killed vampires, 'cause of what they did, to him, to us, to anyone really. He wanted me to give it up in the end, wanted a better life for me, so he didn't want me trying to get revenge. But it didn't feel right not trying, 'cause I know if a vamp had done for me he'd taken them down.” Tom sniffed again. “He'd have kept on fightin' and fightin' even if it meant he'd have died trying. He were stupid brave like that. He were the best, my dad.” 

“You killed vampires?” Andy said staring at him. “Actual real 'I'll drink your blood' vampires? With stakes and garlic and bats and coffins and things” 

“Yeah, well not with bats. Hit one with a cricket bat once, it just annoyed it. But I had to do something as it were about to stab...” he stopped. “You meant the flappy, flying ones didn't you?” 

Andy nodded, seemingly undecided whether he was appalled or amused. “Do you still...well you know... hunt them?”

“No, not since I left the hotel. Told myself, I should do what me dad wanted. To try and be human.” And what a mess he'd made of that, Tom thought bitterly. He 

“I'm okay,” Tom said, all too aware that he really wasn't convincing anyone. He really wasn't up to do it yet, but it was now or never, he was sure of it if he wanted to keep Andy. “I've gotta do this.” 

Words tumbled out, tea growing cold and forgotten while his voice grew hoarse, until finally it was done. Crossing his arms on the tabletop, Tom rested his head on them. He felt hollow, like everything had been scooped out of him and even the slightest gust of wind might knock him down. 

“So werewolves, ghosts and vampires are all real,” Andy said, sounding more like he was talking to himself than to Tom. “I always wondered about ghosts you know. When I was on a school trip as a kid I was convinced I'd seen one at a stately home we were being taken round. Got the piss taken out of me for weeks after that.”

Tom frowned, not least because he didn't like the idea of anybody making Andy feel bad even if it was a long time ago, but he didn't want to lie to him again. “I don't think normal people can see ghosts.”

Andy looked baffled for a moment then said, “Thanks, I think. I guess normal is over rated.”

“No,” Tom said, realising Andy had misunderstood. “I mean you are normal so you probably didn't see one, although Annie reckoned little kids could see ghosts because Eve could see her, but that might've bin because Eve were special, what with havin' her mum and dad being werewolves.” 

“What about psychics then?” 

“Hal reckoned as they were all frauds. We saw one on the telly once, telling people stuff, like somebody in the room's mum's name had stated with an S or somebody had a pet cat. Then somebody'd stand up and say he were right.” Tom shook his head. “It weren't right. He was takin' people's money and just pretending to know stuff. It were like what Larry did to me. It were cruel, givin' hope when it's all just a great big lie.” 

“Larry?” Andy asked, hand reaching out once more to cover Tom's, fingers curling through. “Who is Larry?”

“Oh he were a TV weather man who were staying' at the hotel were I was working for a while. He were a werewolf too. He told me you could be a werewolf and still have a normal life and be a success.” Tom looked at Andy's hand on his, grateful for the support it offered. He'd not really wanted to get in the Larry stuff, it wasn't something that Andy needed to know about to understand werewolves and stuff. But now that he'd asked Tom didn't feel like he as able to refuse telling him. “Well he got me to do a load of stuff for him and give him all the money I'd bin saving up for a headstone for me dad, but he were a fraud. He'd lost everything being a werewolf, job, house, family, the lot.” He bit his lip. It hurt more to talk about it than he thought it would. But there was no going back now, he told himself, and after a moment he continued. “He said it were having the wolf in you that did it, it made you stupid, made you mess everythin' up and you'd never be anything.”

“You don't have to tell me all this,” Andy said, sounding scared at what else he might hear. “It's obvious Larry was an idiot or nasty, or a nasty idiot. I've worked with a few people like that.” 

“There not much more to tell. And he were right in a way, the wolf gets into everything, you can't hide it forever. So I packed it all in. The job, the lot. I just walked out. I needed time to be me, to find out what I wanted out of life. So I just packed up what I had and started walkin'” Energy seriously starting to flag, Tom gave Andy a weary smile. “I'd only bin walking around for a few weeks when I found you, and well you know the rest. You and this place, it's like home, well the home I always wanted I guess. So that's me then. You know it all now, well the important stuff. I mean there's loads of other stuff, stupid stuff like me an' me dad sneaking into cinemas, why you shouldn't give Hal that Keora orange squash stuff, and how Annie'd make all these cups of tea, but you probably don't care about that.” 

“All those things...” Andy said sadly. Letting go of Tom's hand he got up and walked round the table to stand behind him. “I'm not going to pretend it doesn't hurt you couldn't trust me enough to tell me this stuff before, that the idea of you not being human doesn't on some level freak me out and make me wonder if I have gone mad or that knowing you lied to me for months about where went at night doesn't annoy me and make me worry that you're still lying about things.”

Tom's heart sank. He was expecting too much from Andy. “I'm sorry.” 

“So am I,” Andy said, as he put his arms around Tom. “Nobody should ever have to live like you did, spending their whole life, even as a kid, scared of being found and killed. So I'm not angry with you, I can't be angry with you for being afraid, and I don't want to make you feel crap about all this because I know you already do, because that's who you are.”

Tom turned as much as he could in his seat to look at Andy. He was about to tell Andy that it was okay for him to be angry, that he expected, when Andy shook his head and said, “Don't, just let me speak for a minute.”

Scared, but hopeful about what he was going to hear, Tom nodded and relaxed back against him. He could hear his heart beating. A little faster than normal, he could tell Andy was tense, but it seemed more about nervousness about what he was going to say than fear of what Tom was. 

“I don't talk much about the things I saw back in Cardiff,” Andy began, sounding uncertain of himself. “Honestly some of it would make even werewolves look normal. But even without going into all that weird stuff, just as an ordinary police officer, every week I saw people who'd had every chance in life throw it all away to become bullies, drug dealers or murderers. You've had to fight every day just to survive and you put every one of them to shame. You're the nicest, kindest, most honest, well apart from the werewolf thing, person I think I've ever known.” Leaning over, he kissed Tom slowly, fingers stroking the side of his jaw. Finally, pulling back he said, “I meant what I said before about still loving you and I don't know what else I can say to get you to believe that.” 

“Nothing else,” Tom said, feeling weak with relief. “I believe you. I don't deserve you, but I believe you.” 

“You do, but I'm not going to argue,” Andy said, looking fondly at him.“So I'm just going to ask you if you're feeling up to having some lunch or do you want to go back to bed for a while?” 

“Lunch would be good,” Tom replied, glad that since the previous day his stomach had finally settled. 

Sitting at the table, the radio playing something that was probably popular at the moment and with the bright, winter sunlight streaming in through the windows, he watched Andy start to make their lunch, and smiled. This was the normal life that he'd always so desperately wanted, and here with the truth about him finally out in the open and acceptance and love from Andy he had it. 

TBC


	29. Chapter 29

Things had been odd since finding out about Tom being a werewolf. Not a bad odd admittedly, just odd in the fact that it had seemed to have changed almost nothing between them. Part of Andy couldn't believe he'd been so easily accepting of something so bloody weird, another part said it was because he'd seen seen enough bad things and people to know that Tom was good. 

While yet another told him in quiet moments when he'd not found anything else to distract himself with that it was because he was such a pathetic failure he'd hang onto whoever was desperate enough to want him in their life. A normal, sane person would have run. That was the one that he didn't want to think about, because it was the one that would get under your skin and eat away at you until there was nothing left but doubts held together with sharp wires of fear. 

Andy splashed water on his face and then wiped away the last traces of shaving foam. He wasn't going to let those kind of thoughts in today, and not any day if he could help it – there really was nothing to be gained by having an argument with yourself that there was no way you could win. No, Andy told himself, he wasn't going to think about it, he was going to get ready and then go out with Tom for his birthday. 

It had been a good day so far, apart from the fact that David and his Mum had failed to send him even a card, shaping up to be an even better one. Simon and family had sent him gift vouchers and James had finally got in contact, congratulated him on his new relationship and promised to call in with something when he next had shore leave. There had been a card from Gwen and Rhys as well, and even one from his Great Aunt Edith, with a short letter in spidery handwriting that was mostly about how she was getting on down at the retirement home on the coast. 

The biggest surprise had come from Tom, who had in addition getting a couple of things Andy had been looking at online for a while, had booked them a meal in a restaurant in Rhayader. The fact that it wasn't really Tom's thing, he'd always said anywhere more fancy than a cafe made him feel out of place, made it all the more special that he'd do it for him. 

Tom had been trying so hard since that terrible night when he'd changed, like he felt the need to apologise for being who he was, and no amount of telling him that it wasn't necessary seem to help. It was Andy thought, as he went into the bedroom to finish getting changed, probably impossible for anybody to be annoyed by Tom for any length of time about anything. Perhaps that wasn't exactly true. If Tom had been alright after he'd changed then maybe he'd have been angrier about it all. But Tom hadn't, he'd been so sick that it had scared him. The fear that maybe there was something terribly wrong, that Tom would just give up because he thought he was worthless and not even try to get better, had frightened him far worse than anything Tom might change into.

Those days had given him time to think, to run though what he was going to say to Tom once he was well. The fact that Tom had, as soon as he was able, chosen to tell him just about everything in his past, even when it was upsetting or an obviously painful memory, sparing him nothing had helped as well. 

Pausing a moment, shirt still only half buttoned, Andy looked through the gap where he'd not quite closed the bedroom door. Tom was sitting on the sofa, in the living room watching the TV and eating crisps, apparently happy to be watching some old comedy rerun from the eighties. 

It was odd to think that these shows that he just about remembered seeing when they were first on were actually older than Tom, even if it was only by a couple of years. That was one of the other reasons, Andy thought, a sad smile on his face, why it had been easier to forgive him. 

Tom had lived through more heartache than anyone should, especially at just twenty two. Orphaned, turned into a werewolf and raised in isolation to be vampire hunter by the man who'd killed his parent. Who had then who'd lied to Tom for most of his life training him to be a weapon for his own person campaign of vengeance against vampires, and denying him anything like a normal childhood in the process. 

On top of that Tom had lost just about everybody he'd ever cared about in the space of little more than a year. He'd seen many of them killed in front of him, he'd had to bury them, more than once even having to dig the grave by himself, and then carry on, unable to ask for help for the most part because if anybody found out what he was it could have easily ended in his own death. How Tom had come out the other side of all that the funny, caring, generous sweet guy that he was Andy had no idea. He was just eternally grateful that he had. 

After a moment Tom seemed to sense he was being watched and turned to look at Andy. “Are you ready yet? Only we don't want to miss the bus.” 

“Nearly done,” Andy replied. Getting the bus into Rhayader had been Tom's idea as well. That way they could both have a drink with their meal. It did mean walking down to the end of the track to get one of the three buses a day that actually went through Elan Village and a taxi back to the same point at the end of the evening as the last bus for Elan left Rhayader at an impractical five fifteen in the evening. 

It was a bright, sunny early spring evening as they left the house, walking down the track that lead to the main road and eventually Elan Village and the bus stop. The track was rutted in places from having driven over in the landrover while it had been wet, and Andy wondered if they'd ever get it resurfaced into something usable by the average car. The plan of opening the farm up as a campsite had slipped somewhat, and opening that year seemed increasingly unlikely with each passing week that he didn't sort out the issue of access. Deep inside Andy guessed the reason was he didn't actually care, they could manage just as they were, and maybe it was better if they didn't have other people around - he could hardly close the campsite every full moon.

He looked over at Tom walking along beside him and smiled. Getting him to replace his tatty old coat had been a non-starter and it looked even more scruffy over the new shirt he was wearing. It didn't matter, just having Tom back to his usual happy, energetic self was all that he needed.

Tom had been subdued to a couple of weeks after afterwards his dreadful change in the coal cellar, lingering guilt and the after effects of the flu leaving him tired and dejected. Finally though as the the January snows melted and as February's slightly longer, if still very damp, nights drew out Tom had started to get back to old self. 

The February change had worried Andy, and he'd been all for kitting out the cellar into somewhere Tom could change safely every full moon. But Tom had insisted that the wolf needed to run free or it would start to feel caged and he'd feel restless. So in the afternoon Tom had gone out with a chicken on a string to lay a scent trail, telling him that this was the preferred method. Then he'd come back, they had dinner together and then he'd gone out to change. He'd returned just after dawn the following morning, rather grubby and muddy but otherwise well and in a good mood. 

It was a manageable routine. Okay, he'd not slept well or in fact much at all that night. Fears that Tom would get hurt or slip and fall into the deep, cold waters of the reservoirs or that the weather would get suddenly worse over night and he’d end up with hypothermia. Rationally he knew Tom had done this dozens of times before and knew exactly what he was doing. However, at two o’clock in the morning when you’re listening to your boyfriend who is also a werewolf howl at the moon, rational was in short supply. 

“You're worrying about something, ain't you?” Tom said, stopping. “I know that face.”

“I was just thinking,” Andy replied, stopping as well. “About a lot of things really, the farm and getting things done mostly." He booted a small pebble from one of the ruts. "The road isn't going to be easy to fix, so maybe we should wait until next year before opening the place up."

"You ain't doing this because of me then?" Tom asked, looking doubtful.

"Maybe a bit," Andy admitted, suspecting that Tom would prefer honesty. "but mostly it's cost. And the bit that is about you is really mostly me fussing about things that aren't going to happen."

"So you are worrying," Tom said sounding like he wasn't sure what Andy was talking about. "You shouldn't be, it's your birthday. You're 'sposed to be happy."

"I am happy," Andy replied, hoping it wasn’t going to end up being one of those conversation that went round in circles with both of them getting more and more frustrated. Admittedly they’d not had many of them, for which Andy was glad, and their lives remained mostly argument free. “I just think too much sometimes.” 

Tom was quiet for a moment and then said, “Do you want me to talk about something so you’re not thinking? I mean you might still be thinking, but it’d be about something else, so it might be better.” He frowned. “I ain’t sure that made as much sense as I hoped it would, but you do know what I mean, right?” 

“I know and thank you,” Andy replied, not sure if he really did need the distraction or not. Even if he didn’t he decided hearing what Tom wanted to talk about wasn’t a bad thing. 

Listening to Tom talk about helping out with a few odd jobs for people from the village, like mowing the lawn for the old couple who lived across from the pub or fixing a fence for the woman with three kids who’d recently moved the village to be near her family, Andy smiled. 

0X0X0X0

The restaurant had been nice in a not too posh kind of way, catering mostly it seemed to tourists who wanted something that looked traditional, but which served something other than the standard pub fare of pie and chips. All in all, Andy thought as he sat in the taxi as they made their way back home, it had been a very good evening. 

There had been a brief moment of panic as Tom, who'd seen that nobody had commented about the man and woman three tables over kissing, had leant across and kissed him just as the waitress came over to them. She'd looked slightly embarrassed, but had just asked politely whether they were ready to order dessert yet. 

Leaning back in the seat he smiled. The rest of the evening had been good as well. Just talking, eating and perhaps just enough wine there was still a slight warm, fuzzy feeling to everything. He rubbed a hand over Tom's short cropped hair. That was warm and fuzzy too, and he smiled again, not caring if the taxi driver saw and thought he looked like an idiot. 

“Can yer stop along here?” Tom said as they approached the track up to the farm. 

“Here? Are you sure?” the taxi driver said, looking at the muddy track leading into the hills, the only indication that it lead anywhere at all being a postbox that has been fastened to a tree by the side of the road. 

“Yeah,” Tom said, fumbling slightly with his seatbelt. “We live on a farm up there. Well it’s not really a farm as we ain’t got no cows or sheep, so I ‘spose it’s more like a cottage. Anyway, you'll get yer car stuck if you try drivin' it up there. So I were just tryin’ to saw you the trouble.” 

The look on the taxi drivers face was, Andy thought, priceless, and he had to pretend to cough to cover a laugh. 

“Takes all sorts I 'spose.” The driver said as he shrugged and check the meter. “Well that'll be nine pound fifty.”

“He were a bit odd, weren’t he?” Tom said once they’d paid and the taxi had started to move away. “Do you reckon he didn’t like it that we weren’t proper farmers?” 

It took Andy a moment to answer, not certain he could explain the idea of cottaging to Tom without ending up laughing - he didn’t want Tom to think he was laughing at his lack of knowledge, when the amusement was only at the cross purposes that he’d been at with the taxi driver. In the end Andy said, “I think he thought we were the kind of people who hook up in out of the way places just for the weekend to have sex.”

“Oh.” Tom looked back at where the taxi had just driven out of sight. “I should have probably told him we weren't like that, that it ain’t only weekends”

“It doesn't matter,” Andy said, not able to hide a laugh now. Knowing that Tom was blushing, he put an arm around him, pulling him in for a kiss. "I’ve decided not to care what anyone thinks as long as I've got you. Now come on, let's get home."

After they had been walking for a few minutes and he'd had only narrowly avoided stepping in his third puddle of the night, Andy said, “We should have brought a torch.”

“It ain't that dark,” Tom said a short way ahead of him. Stopping, he tilted his head slightly like he was waiting or listening for something.

“Is something wrong?” Andy asked joining him, looking around into the dark wood land on one side of them and down to the moonlit fields on the other, where the valley opened out before them. 

“Nah, it's just a nice night, is all.” Tom sniffed the air then took a deep breath. “There's so much out there what with spring just starting and all that.”

Andy listened for a moment then said, “I don't hear anything or smell anything. Well I suppose there's a sort of wet wood smell.” 

“It's 'cause the full moon is only a couple of nights away. It means I can taste and hear and smell things more. Can see a bit better in the dark an' all.” Tom nodded towards where the wooded slope steepened and trees thinned to be replaced by scrubby bushes. “There's a fox up there, after rabbits I reckon.”

“Wow.” Andy looked around him, the world seeming dark and still to him. It was a little disappointing really to know that there was so much out there that he was missing out on. “I had no idea.” 

Tom shrugged. “It's just listening and stuff,” he added rather self-consciously. “I can't always do it. It's just....well you know.” He looked up at the moon. “Sorry I'm being weird.”

Making Tom feel bad about it had been just about as far from Andy's intentions as it was possible to get. “Hey, don't apologise for who you are.” He stroked his hand lightly down the side of Tom's face, getting him to look at him rather than the moon. "And you're not weird, you're one of a kind." Before Tom could claim that he was and take the conversation down a route that might end up spoiling an otherwise great evening, Andy kissed him full on the lips. 

Tom's response, to return the kiss enthusiastically, hands low on Andy's back, pulling them together and half hard already, made Andy wonder about the rest of Tom's senses. If some of them were improved just before the full moon what about the rest of them? Wondering whether he was doing the right thing, but wanting him to know he was going to accept this part of him, he asked, “Do you feel more too?” 

“I dunno, never really thought about it.” Tom breathed in deeply at the base of Andy's neck, then licked at the hollow of this throat. “Probably wouldn't hurt to find out.” 

Having Tom lick his neck probably shouldn't have been anywhere as hot at felt at that moment, but Andy really didn't care. Tilting his head back, Andy closed his eyes and said mostly to himself, “I should have waiting until we were nearer home.”

“What? Home?” Tom said almost comically disappointed. “We're waiting until we get back to the house?” 

“You thought I meant here?” Andy said, unable to cover his surprise.

“Why not? There ain't nobody else out here but us,” Tom said, moving back just enough so he could unzip his coat. “This is our land and it ain't far off midnight. We can do what we want.” 

Tom was right, the chances of anybody else being out there was remote, but being outside, exposed did still have a thrill of the forbidden about it. "Alright," Andy said, letting himself get caught up in the in the moment, his hands finding their way inside Tom's clothes. Bending close to his ear, he said, “Oh Tom, the things you make me want to do.”

“If it's any help I want you to do them to me, whatever they are,” Tom said, fingers fumbling at Andy's belt. “Doing them really soon would be good an' all.” 

The night air was cool rather than cold, although Andy knew that they'd probably wouldn't care about it soon enough. The cold never seemed to bother Tom much anyway, and he'd already stripped off his coat and shirt while he was still wondering if he should leave jacket on. 

"What do you want me to do?" Andy asked, fingers sliding under the waist of his boxer shorts,

"Mouth," Tom breathed, pushing against his hand, half hard already. "Use your mouth." 

The mud would wash out, Andy thought as he knelt down in front of Tom, his knees pressing into the damp, leaf covered ground. He'd never tire of this, of how Tom never held anything back, giving himself entirely over to sensation and to what he was doing. 

Good sex was messy, he'd read or heard that somewhere, and it was certainly true of blow jobs, Andy thought. There really wasn't a way to do them that looked or sounded pretty, but that didn't matter, it was the intimacy of it, of feeling the other person slowly or sometimes no so slowly come apart and knowing that you're doing that to them. There was trust as well, there weren't really any situations other than sex when you be willing to have teeth so close to such a sensitive part of the anatomy. 

Resting one hand against Tom's hip, Andy stoked the other up the inside of his thigh, fingers slick with spit teasing the soft, sensitive skin behind his balls, before moving further back. 

“Will yer stop teasing me and do it already?” Tom said frustrated, when Andy hadn't moved to do more. 

Andy hummed and pressed his finger inside, feeling Tom hot and tight around it. They might have done this before, but the sounds Tom made, noises that were pure sex and need, never failed to send coils of lust and need twisting through him. 

A second finger eventually joined the first, as Tom panted and begged for more, seeming unable to decided whether to push forwards or back. He was close, Andy was sure.

“Stop,” Tom said, breathless, his hand clutching at Andy's shoulder. “Stop a minute.”

Startled, Andy pulled back and looked up. “What's wrong? Is it too much?” He glanced round into the dark, still night. “There's not anyone out there, is there?”

“No. It's just I want you to...” Tom stopped, embarrassed and stumbling over the words. “I want you...there. Not only fingers, I mean they're really nice, but I want you. Like we do when I do it.” 

It was unexpected, but definitely not unwelcome, Andy just wished that Tom had picked a time when they could have relaxed in bed and taken plenty of time about it. "Are you sure? I've not got anything much with me,” Andy said, checking his pockets and then his wallet, and finding just a single condom. 

“What else do we need? Really, I mean?” Tom said, almost pleading now. “'cause I really, really want this. I've been thinking about this for a while, and I really want to try."

“You weren't that sure the time when we tried three fingers,” Andy said doubtfully. “I don't want to hurt you.” 

“But that's 'cause you've got really big hands. Not saying you're small down there like, but three's probably wider,” Tom said, kissing him again eagerly, as he trying to unzip Andy's trousers. “Can we at least try? Please?"

Eager, earnest and horny, what a combination, Andy thought, knowing that he really wasn't much better. “Alright, but tell me if it's too much.” 

This would be so much easier, Andy thought, if either I were shorter or Tom were taller, as they tried to find a standing position that wasn't either awkward or likely to end up with one or both of them falling over. The sloping ground against the wall at the side of the track was probably the best option, although he'd have to be careful not to push Tom too hard against the rough stonework. 

Even with the pre-lubed condom and there was still a little more friction that he would have liked, but the fact that Tom was relaxed already, had fingers up there and that he was ridiculously horny helped immensely. Andy knew Tom probably wouldn't have minded if he had been rougher about it - he didn't seem to acknowledge discomfort most of the time. Whether that was because of the wolf or if it had been something expected of him growing up, Andy didn't know, and it wasn't the time to be wondering about it, Andy told himself. Leaning forwards he kissed the back of Tom's neck, feeling him shudder beneath him. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, it's....” Tom let out a slow breath. “Good, a bit weird, but good. So could you start doing stuff? Like moving and that? 'cause I really need you to do something."

Andy rolled his hips slightly, not wanting to take it too fast. "Like this?" 

"Yeah, that'd be it," he replied, voice less than steady. 

It didn't take long to find a rhythm, Tom pushing back, breathing rough and desperate as he pleaded for more and faster and harder. Next time, Andy thought, trying to maintain his footing on the uneven ground, they were doing this in a bed, where they could find a position that was easier on his back and thighs. 

Andy could see the scars that ran down Tom's shoulder, the raised skin silvery in the moonlight. Hoping that Tom wouldn't find it too odd, he kissed one of them. When there wasn't much of a reaction, he kissed the side of Tom's neck, just below his ear. Then, aware that Tom seemed to want think just a little bit rougher, he let his teeth brush against back of his neck. 

The effect was electric, Tom bucked under him, nearly tripping them both. "Shouldn't feel right," Tom moaned, grinding back against him, hands seeking purchase against the low stone wall. "Don't stop. I need...I need..." 

Tom's breath caught, his body going rigid for a moment, then he began to shudder and Andy felt wet warmth pulsing out over his fingers. Resting his head against Tom's shoulder, Andy felt sweat bead on his forehead as he held back. He wanted to remember this, every second of this night, every sight and sound and scent, every tense of muscles and shiver of pleasure as Tom trembled and shook through what felt to him like a very satisfying climax.

"Have you...?" Tom asked, breathless as the aftershocks slowly started to fade away.

"No," Andy replied, voice strained with the effort of keeping still. 

"Did I do it wrong?" Tom asked, sounding concerned that Andy might not be enjoying it. He tensed his muscles and then rocked his hips back. “Should I start moving again?” 

After holding back for so long it was too much. The feeling of something molten pooling low in his body suddenly overflowed, sparking up his spine and Andy gasped. Gripping Tom's hips as he surged forwards, unable to do but cling to him as he came. 

How he was still on his feet he had no idea, Andy thought as he slowly came back down. There was nothing around them but the sound of their breathing and the scent of sweat and sex, and the cool night air drifting against their heated bodies.

Andy stroked a hand down Tom's side, reluctantly pulling out and feeling colder as he did. "Are you okay? It wasn't too much at the end, was it?"

"Course it weren't, it were good..." Tom shook his head, turning so that he faced Andy. "No, it weren't just good, it were great.” He looked thoughtful for a moment and then added, “But next time maybe we could try a bed. Not as far to go to sleep then.”

“Practical and sexy,” Andy said with a laugh. “Is it any wonder I love you?” Wrapping his arms about him, he kissed Tom slow and sure. Closing his eyes, he smiled. This really had been the best birthday ever.


	30. Chapter 30

The market had been busier than Tom had expected, but dry weather and a coach load of tourists whose bus had broken down on the way to Brecon had meant that it had been well after five by the time he'd helped Mrs Griffifths pack down the stall.

He he'd managed to sell a few carvings and had agreed to make a couple of bookends and a house number plaque. All in all, Tom thought as he headed for the chip shop things were going pretty well. Things between him and Andy well were good too. They'd settled back into their old routine, the wolf relegated to a one night a month inconvenience. Annoyingly that one night a month was tonight and with the later than expected finish he'd only have an hour or so at home before he'd have to go out again. At least it he would if he walked back, but Tom had a plan. He'd buy them both fish and chips and then call Andy to come and pick him up, so they'd be able to spend the evening together.

There wasn't much of a queue at the chip shop and Tom realised that it would probably end up getting cold by the time Andy driven out to get him. He'd call Andy first and then buy the food. Or at least he would, Tom thought listening to the automated voice on his phone telling him he had insufficient credit to make the call. Okay, revised plan, he told himself – get phone credit, call Andy and then get fish and chips.

A van passed him on the narrow street and pulled up just down from the chip shop. Tom glanced back from where he'd finally managed to get the cash point to accept that he really did only want to top up with ten pound and he really didn't want it to do or print anything else. His heart sank as he saw it was the two men he'd seen shortly before Christmas in the car park when he'd had the run in with Vampire Biker Lady, as he now referred to her or at least would have if he'd told anybody apart from Hal about her. Deciding that he wouldn't speak to them or anything unless they came over to him first Tom turned back to the cash point.

They weren't in the chip shop, their van or anywhere else on the street when Tom had finished, and he looked around, unnerved by it, but not sure why – there were plenty of other places they could have gone. As did though the unmistakeable smell of vampire drifted past him, and a moment later the Vampire Biker Lady stepped out from an alley between two shops that had already shut for the day. Without her helmet, but still dressed in skin-tight leathers, she stalked over the street towards him.

“What do you want?” Tom asked, annoyed and now doubting that it was coincidence that the men in the work van were somewhere around too.

“What does any one want?” she said carelessly. “Food, friends and fun.”

“Ain't they all the same thing to a vampire,” Tom said knowing that he couldn't do anything without being seen. Although at least the same applied to her. A stand off again, he thought annoyed, all I want to do is get my tea and go home with Andy, why do vampires always have to muck things up?

“Snappy little thing, aren't you?” she said with a laugh that showed just too much tooth. “So are you still playing at being a real boy or has he got tired of the dog breath and hairs on the furniture?”

“He knows,” Tom replied, wishing he'd never mentioned Andy to her when they'd first met, although at least, he thought gratefully, he'd not told her his name. “And he don't mind, that's why he's better than any of your lot.”

“Mad or plain desperate then,” she said, cruel and mocking now. “I suppose its got to be better than getting too friendly with a sheep. A least you can train a dog.” She looked at his bag. “He trusts you to pick up his shopping then, does he?”

“Have you really got nothing better to do than go around annoyin' people?” Tom asked, decided that if she didn't shut up in a minute he was just going to walk right past her and go and buy his chips any way.

“I have actually.” She put two fingers in her mouth and whistled.

Tom caught the scent of another vampire just a fraction to late and spun round to see the younger of the two men with the van facing him, a taser in his hand.

“What...” Was all Tom had time to say as the man jabbed the taser against his stomach. The man smiled, eyes black and fangs showing. “I've always wanted to try one of these things, they look right cool.”

Tasers really, really hurt, was Tom's only thought at that moment, as pain arced through him, his legs giving way and dropping him to the ground at the vampire's feet.

“This is so much better than the old iron bar round the head, don't you think?” The vampire woman said, placing her foot on Tom's back so that he couldn't have got up even if his legs had felt up to it.  
When Tom didn't answer, she removed her boot, and said, “Secure him then, or do I have to do everything myself?”

Still dizzy and with tremors running through him, Tom felt his arms being dragged roughly behind his back and his wrists fastened together with plastic ziplock cuffs. Tom looked around groggily as he was hauled to his feet to see the second van man approaching, although from his eyes it was clear he was a vampire now too.

It was probably a stupid idea, Tom decided, but he had to try, as if they got him into the van the chances of getting way were slim. He didn't need to get far though, if he could just get closer to the chip shop, then maybe they wouldn't risk it. Being seen bundling somebody into the back of a van and then speeding off generally got people suspicious, and he doubted they wanted that.

Dropping all his weight to one side so that the vampire who'd tasered and was currently holding him was off balance, Tom kicked back at him, pleased when he felt his boot come into contact with the vampire's knee. The vampire gave a yell that was more surprise than pain, and let go of him. The chance to escape though fail to present itself as the other vampire, seeing his one time workmate get kicked, decided that Tom needed the same, so after tripping him, landed a heavy kick to Tom's side.

“Stop that!” the vampire woman shouted. “I want him in good condition for tonight.” She bent down next to Tom so that he could see her face. “And you need to be a good little doggy. Bad dogs get put down, just you remember that.” She patted him on the head. “I'll make you a deal. If you survive the fight I'll think about letting you go. I can't say fairer than that.”

“That's not...a...deal,” Tom said, trying to breath through the added pain now running through his rib and hoping that it was only bruising.

“It's all I'm going to offer,” she said, straightening up. “Now get him into the van.”

0X0X0X0

The van had stunk of the same unidentified creature he'd smelt a couple of times in Rhayader, but which had otherwise remained elusive. Tied hand and foot, and with a sack over his head, Tom had rolled and bumped over the floor of the van as they had driven down what had seemed like the most pothole filled round in Wales until, at last they had eventually stopped.

It was at least another half an hour after that before the back of the van was opened and he was dragged out and dropped onto what felt like a cobbled yard. Through the coarse sacking Tom could see a farm house and for a horrible, stomach churning moment he thought that they had taken him home, that Andy was about to be dragged into the nightmare as well. The place didn't smell right though, the lingering scent of dozens of pigs remained around the long, low barns and the angle of the setting sun over the grey slate of the farmhouse roof was wrong.

“Cutting it a bit fine there, aren't you lass?” said a man with a broad Yorkshire accent, coming out of the nearest barn to meet them.

“You know me, Joe,” said vampire biker woman. “Where's the excitement in it otherwise?”

“It's going to come back and bite you one of these days, Audrey,” he said shaking his head. “So what you got for us this time? Because what Lenny brought in, well if either of them last five minutes I'll eat my hat. It'd probably be a damn cite more entertaining an' all.”

“You wait and see. It'll be a special one tonight.” Audrey smiled and wagged a finger at him. “When have I ever lied to you?”

“You ain't.”

Tom was beginning to wonder if they'd forgotten that they were actually standing over him chatting like they were just catching up at the pub or something when Joe said, “Right well let's be getting this 'un into the cage then. I don't reckon we've got too long now.”

Dragged to his feet again, Tom didn't fight it this time. Out numbered at least four to one, bound hand and foot and quite possibly miles from anywhere all he would get was another beating and put in the cage anyway. No, his only chance now was to win the fight and hope that Audrey would keep her word.

“So how are your two new helpers getting on?” Joe asked pushing Tom in front of him into the barn.

“Bill and Ben?” she said, following them inside. “About as well as you expect. Honestly they've not got a brain cell between, but Ben at least enjoys his work. Vicious little bastard if you give him the chance. Give a century or two and he might even be able to think for himself. And Bill, well he'll stay to keep the Ben company. He's some kind of relative I think, uncle maybe. I can't I really cared enough to listen.”

“You reckon this ones up doing anything?” Joe said, pulling the sack off Tom's head and pushing him through an open door into cage. “He's just a kid.”

On his knees on the floor of the cage Tom could feel the first twinges of the change stirring deep in his bones, the ache adding to the last hour or so of rough treatment. Gritting his teeth he got up and turned to face them. “It ain't the first time I've bin in one of these places. An' there were a lot of dead vamps and no dead wolves that time, so you'd better watch out.”

“Well he talks the talk,” Joe said, not sounding impressed in the least. “Alright, lad. You back up to the wires and I'll cut the cuffs. Ain't gonna be much of a fight otherwise.”

Tom just glared at him, taking in the set up of cages and wire fenced arena as he did so. The dried blood on the floor, the scraps of fur snagged on the wires and solitary human tooth lying forgotten in a corner pointed to only one thing - what was going on here was no one time thing.

“Alright then.” Joe shrugged and started to turn away. “You can try changing with 'em on if you want. Might be good for a laugh, well for us anyway.”

Joe had a point as much as Tom hated to admit it – if the cuffs didn't break while he changed they'd end up cutting into his wrists. Dying because he couldn't defend himself or because the cuffs cut through an artery wasn't an option. He was going to fight, he was going to win and then he was going home. He closed his eyes knowing Andy would be worrying where he was by now. Tomorrow he'd see him again, Tom told himself, hoping if he told himself it enough times he'd believe it. Tomorrow things would be alright again.

“Fine,” Tom said angrily, moving awkwardly over to the end of the cage, the short rope tying his feet together only allowing him to shuffle.

“See, he's a good boy really. Well trained,” Audrey said, as Joe used a pair of clippers to cut the plastic ties. “Right well, I'd better go and get ready.”

With his hands untied, Tom spent a few minutes removing the rope from his ankles, fingers tingling and clumsy. Freed from their cramped position behind his back, his arms and shoulders started to ache again, but Tom forced himself to stretch and move them until the it lessened.

Vampires started to arrive alone, in couples or occasionally in groups, the occasional one or two bringing a human or two with them either as servants or a snack for later, the only difference between them, as far as Tom could tell, was that some were dull eyed with resignation to their position while others were wide eyed with terror of the new and unknown.

And all the while the shift, twist and lightening fast stabs of pain that preceded the change built, the intensity growing until Tom wasn't sure how much longer he could actually keep from crying out. Just a little longer, he told himself, head hanging down, sweat running in his eyes. His dad used to be able keep silent until past the point where you could see the bones in your hand break and stretch. He could do the same.

Eventually the tiers of seating around the cages and arena were full and Tom estimated that there were probably at least forty vampires packed in there. There was a was a crackle of a PA system, then a blare of music that wouldn't have been out of place at a fairground and then Audrey reappeared on a stage built at one end of the barn and lit by a spotlight. No longer wearing her biker leather, but something that was probably best terms ring master burlesque.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, good evening and welcome.” She looked around at all of them. “What a show we have for you tonight.”

There were cheers and one vampire, a little louder than the rest called out that for the money they'd paid it better be bloody spectacular. Rather than be offended, Audrey just laughed. “I don't think you'll be disappointed. So before it gets any later and we can't tell our dogs apart, let me introduce Lucy.”

Bill and Ben appeared dragging a young woman between them, who was fighting every step of the way, and swearing at them telling them to let her go. Slightly built, her leggings ripped and her old t-shirt looking like it had seen better days, Tom wondered whether they'd been keeping her caged for some time or she'd been living rough somewhere.

“Don't let appearances fool you,” Audrey said, gesturing towards Lucy. “This little lady here is a werewolf. Still quite a new one, just three months.” She turn towards Lucy. “Isn't that right?”

Lucy spat towards her. “Fuck you and all you pointy teethed freaks.”

“See that spirit,” Audrey said turning back to the crowd. “A regular little spitfire. So lets have a round of applause for our newest werewolf.” She waited for the somewhat mocking clapping to die away before she spoke again, “So who have we got to fight this little lady I hear you ask – bring him out boys.”

Looking dazed and confused a man of about fifty was pushed into the arena, as Audrey said, “This is Gordon. He used to be a bit of thug in his younger days, kick your head in if you looked at him funny. He's gone to seed a bit now, but he used run with the Millwall crew until he became a family man. But that kind of fire doesn't die, we just need to ignite it again.”

Gordon stared at her, then at Lucy. “I won't fight no woman. That ain't right.”

“You will, if you want to live that is. She's not the helpless little thing you think,” Audrey said amused. “Ben give him a knife. We want it to be fair at least.”

“So that's it?” called the heckler again. “I thought you said it was going to be a night to remember.”

“They're just the warm up act,” Audrey replied. “Now let me introduce our main event.”

“In you go boy,” Joe said to Tom. “I don't want to have to come in there and drag you.”

Fighting down another stab of pain, Tom walked into the arena head held high, trying not to show the fear coiling in knots in his stomach.

“Let me introduce Tom McNair.” Audrey waiting for the chatter to die down again before continuing. “Yes, that one. Twenty one years a werewolf, over forty known vampire kills and son of 'Mad dog' McNair. Now how will that do you!”

There was more cheering and Tom felt sick. There would be no rescue for him this time, his dad was gone. Another spike of pain doubled him over, gasping and he missed whatever she said that made the crowd roar with laughter.

“Seriously though folks, what could we have to fight a seasoned vampire killer like this? No mere human, even another wolf wouldn't be much of a challenge him,” Audrey said, working the crowd. “So I'll tell you.” She nodded to Joe to take a cover off another cage that connected to the arena.

There was silence for a moment and even a few gasps from the assembled vampires, then Audrey spoke again, “Fresh from the sewers of Cardiff, the creature with no name.”

Lucy and Gordon exchanged horrified glances and backed away. Tom stared at the creature, finally seeing what had produced the hitherto unidentified scent.

Human in shape alone it wore a boiler suit that was ripped and stained with who knew what. It sniffed the air, nostrils flaring and the wrinkles on its elongated face crinkling around its deep set eyes. It turned to look at Gordon and Lucy, its taloned hand raking across the wire separating them, then it snarled, mouth full of razor like teeth as it tried with brute force to break down the fence.

Tom backed into the corner of his cage, as the vampires laughed and jeered, and a few threw bits of scrunched up paper or coins down at the creature, adding to its fury. What it was Tom didn't know, nor did he want to find out. He looked at Audrey, “You want me to fight that thing?”

“Honestly I'd rather it ripped your throat out,” Audrey said, carelessly. “It was a lot harder to catch than you were. Although there are more of them out there and only one of you, so perhaps you should try and stay alive. It might be fun to have a rematch some time. ”

There was no escaping it, Tom thought miserably, trying to ride out another spike of pain. Andy would never know what happened to him, he'd just think that he'd run away and abandoned him. Or what if they just dumped his body somewhere afterwards, maybe back in Rhayader. Would Andy have identify it or something, that had to be worse than just thinking he'd run, hadn't it? Closing his eyes, Tom gave up trying to ride out the change with his wits about him, deciding to just let the wolf free as it so desperately wanted to be. Conscious thought slipping away, Tom promised himself that he'd get home to Andy or die trying.

X0X0X0X

Tom rolled over and groaned. Everything ached, but he didn't care. Lying there, Tom laughed until tears ran down his face. He was alive and for a few minutes nothing else mattered.

When nobody appeared to either laugh at him or tell him to shut up, Tom got unsteadily to his feet and looked around.  The remains of Gordon and Lucy lay in opposite corners of the arena, skin bloody and tattered, he was glad he couldn’t see their faces.  The creature, whatever it was, was lying on the ground near the centre of the cage, although whether it was dead, Tom couldn’t be sure. His own clothes, with the exception of his coat, were ruined as well, as he’d refused to strip off in front of an audience of vampires. 

The vampires were all gone now, although Tom suspected that some, most likely Audrey, Joe and Bill and Ben were still around somewhere to deal with the clean up. Not that he wanted to see any of them, as despite Audrey having told him if he won that she’d let him go, trusting her would be a very bad idea. Looking around Tom saw the knife that had been given to Gordon lying on the ground near the creature. He glanced back at the lock on the arena door, it didn’t look particularly sturdy, and he was fairly sure that if he had a few minutes and the knife he could get it open.  

Holding his coat in one hand, ready to use it as a distraction should the creature get up, Tom paused a moment listening for the sound of anybody approaching. Hearing nothing but the patter of light rain falling outside, he slowly walked forwards. 

As he approached the creature it lurched to its feet, apparently more confused by than dying from the gashes across its chest and face. It stared at Tom and made a whining noise. 

“Can yer talk?” Tom asked, taking another step forwards. “Are you asking for help?” 

Lightening fast and not seemingly slowed by its injuries the creature gave a snarl and lashed at him, its claws opening up bloody gouges on Tom’s leg that ran from hip to mid thigh. With a yell, Tom kicked out at it, hitting it in one of the still sluggishly bleeding wounds and it backed off snarling.

Limping backward, eyes still fixed on the creature should it try to rush him, Tom knew he didn't dare risk checking to see just how bad it was yet. It hurt and he could feel the sting an open wound and warm trickle of blood lower onto his leg below the wound, he was still standing though and there was nothing to suggest that the claws had ripped through anything major.  

Tom was wondering whether to try to make a grab for the knife again, when he heard the sound of running footsteps, the noise having brought Bill in to see what was going on. “Blooming hell,” he said staring at Tom and the creature. “I thought you were both deaders.”

“I will be if you don't let me out,” Tom said thinking fast. “You know Audrey said she'd let me go if I won, well it looks like I did.”

Bill shrugged. “So what?”

“She wanted me for a rematch, so if you mess that up, I expect she'll put you in with that thing instead.”

Bill looked at the creature and then at Tom who'd slowly moved toward the door to the arena as he'd been talking. “Alright, but don't you run or I'll hand you over to Ben for a while and you'll be wishing you were back in there with that thing.”

Tom glanced down at his leg. It looked worse than it was, at least he hoped that it was, but there was no sense telling Bill that. Limping forward, exaggerating it slightly, he said, “No running from me.”

“Alright.” Bill opened the door.

The creature, seeing a chance at freedom or possibly another meal, rushed at them both. It was now or never Tom decided, and grabbing Bill's coat he pulled him into the cage with him, the momentum spinning them both round, until Bill was facing the creature.

Pushing Bill forward so that he fell against the creature, Tom stumbled through the open door and then slammed it behind him. Pausing only to grab his coat, Tom limped out and into the farmyard.

Crouching down behind large rainwater tank at the side of the barn Tom, paused listened for sounds of pursuit and looked for anything around him that he might give a clue to where they'd taken him. There was some noise from within the barn, probably Bill's friend or maybe Joe trying to get him away from the creature, and Tom decided that trying to take the van parked near the farmhouse was out of the question. Hot wiring took time, and he'd never been that good at it even when the pressure wasn't on.

To the south of the farm, the high, bare hill top that lay at the northern end of the Craig Gogh reservoir was visible, rising up steep and bleak, and to Tom's relief, not too far distant. There was little more than five or six miles of moorland between him and home. Moorland that the vampires, for all their complaints about how wolves smelt, would not be able to track him over.

Scrambling over the low wall, Tom ran for the tree line as fast as his injured would allow him and was soon hidden from view by the tangle of branches.


	31. Chapter 31

He'd give Tom another half an hour and then he'd start looking, Andy decided looking out at the slowly brightening sky. Sunset, moon rise, moon set and then sunrise had passed and the feeling that something was wrong had grown, until he'd half convinced himself that if he were to turn on the TV or radio he heard something on the local news that would bring the life they'd made for themselves to a crashing halt.

He was being ridiculous, Andy told himself as he paced between the kitchen and the living room window as he'd done what felt like a million times before since Tom had failed to arrive home from the market. Tom had probably just ended up helping somebody out and had left Rhayader too late to get home before it was time to change. Helping somebody and losing track of time while doing it was a very Tom thing to do. In a few minutes Tom would open the door, and he'd apologise for making him worry, and then relate how he had to helped carry an old lady’s shopping for her when she missed her bus or packed up for some other stall holder who'd been called away on a family emergency. Yes, he told himself, that's what would happen. As for Tom not answering his phone, well he’d probably forgot to charge it again - it wouldn’t be the first time, he shook his head, or even the twentieth for that matter. 

Tiredness dragged at him as Andy moved back to the kitchen once more. He'd not been able to sleep, the house seeming unnaturally quiet without Tom there. Not that Tom was normally noisy, it was just the silence of being on his own and the long hours before dawn the feelings of loneliness and loss had seemed like they were going to eat him alive. Even the mournful howl of the wolf that somehow also Tom had been absent, and while hearing it raised the hair on the back of his neck, not hearing it freed his own personal demons, that in the still of the night whispered that Tom was gone, left him or dead, it was all the same, he was alone. He would always be alone and that's what he deserved.

Andy closed his eyes. They felt gritty and sore, but he knew he'd not be able to sleep until he knew Tom was safe or absolute exhaustion drove him to rest. He opened his eyes and looked at the clock on the kitchen wall, seven nineteen. Tom would be home soon, he told himself, hoping that if he repeated it enough that it would somehow make it true. Any minute now he'd walk in and things would be alright again.

There was a knock at the door and Andy froze, hands gripping white knuckled on the back of the chair. There was nobody who'd knock, Tom had a key. Nobody would visit so early in the morning, making the trip up the narrow, muddy track unless they had to, not even the postman did, leaving their post in the box at the end of the lane. The only people who would were the police. Andy closed his eyes again, trying to breath through the growing panic. It was too close to nightmares he'd had, terrible twisted visions of Tom dead or dying, and callous old colleagues being the ones to break the news, dismissive and cruel in the face of his misery.

If he didn't answer the door it wouldn't be real. There was another knock more insistent this time, and Andy swung the chair towards the door, as if he could frighten the bad news away. The lightweight wood splintered as it struck the solid stone of the farmhouse wall. “Go away!” Andy yelled. “Leave me alone!”

“Andy!” Tom's voice came from the other side of the door, scared and breathless like he'd been running. “What's going on in there? Are you okay?”

Relief hit like a tidal wave, and Andy stumbled, sagged against the wall, his legs feeling weak. Part of him wanted to shout at Tom for letting him spend the whole night worrying, the other screamed at him that it was his own fault for getting in a state about nothing, that he was a stupid, pathetic idiot. Tom had probably just lost his bag, that's why he'd not answered his phone and why he'd not got his key. Now he'd broken a perfectly good chair, worried Tom and let himself get in such a state he'd likely be a mess for the rest of the day. No wonder he had to live miles from anywhere, away from normal people, Andy thought bitterly, furious at himself for his own perceived failures. Why would anyone put up with somebody who went to pieces over a knock at the door?

Stress and not having slept in more than twenty four hours wasn't a good recipe for logical thought, he knew, but awareness of it didn’t seem to help in the slightest. 

“Andy, will yer please open the door,” Tom called out. “I really don't wanna have to try an' break it down.”

Knowing he was still shaking, but unable to stop himself, Andy opened the door. Tom who'd been leaning against it, trying to hear what was going on, fell inside against him.

Tom was filthy, sweaty and smelt like he'd spent the night in a ditch, but Andy didn't care. Wrapping his arms about him he held him tight, only loosening his grip when Tom gave a yelp of pain. Pulling back, he looked at Tom. He was naked apart from his tatty old coat, the bare skin that he could see spattered with muck and blood, while his feet scratched and bruised from running barefoot. But it was the look in Tom's eyes that was worse, pain and fear and helplessness that made Andy's blood run cold. “What happened?”

“Vampires.” Tom's voice was muffled, as he pressed his face against Andy's shoulder, and he leant against him, taking the weight off his right leg. “They grabbed me and a couple of others and thing, I don't know what it were, an' they shoved us in a cage and...” He stopped and took a shaky breath. “But it's okay now 'cause it's all over, and I'm home, so it's okay and I'm okay.”

He wasn’t, but telling him that probably wouldn’t help. So, although he was terrified he knew the answer already, Andy asked, “What happened to the others?” 

Looked up Tom and shook his head. “I don't think it were me. They kept the thing for me, but I don't know. I’m never gonna know. I don't want to have killed anyone.”

Not knowing where Tom was hurt, but certain from his earlier reaction that he was, Andy hugged him carefully. “You wouldn't have. I know you.”

“You don't know the wolf. It destroys,” Tom said, voice cracking. “I always told myself that if I did it, if it happened, if I killed, that'd be it. You can't let a mad dog...”

“No,” Andy snapped, holding him tightly again. “Don't you dare even think it. Just don't. None of this is your fault. None of it.”

Tom gave a muted noise of pain, then his shoulders started to shake and Andy felt the warm, wet spread of tears soaking into his t-shirt. Andy had always been a firm believer in that violence solved nothing, but at the that moment, if he could have found the vampires that done this, he knew he’d have been tempted to do more than arrest them. Not that he could arrest them, he realised, he couldn’t do that anymore, and even if he could, could you actually arrest somebody who was undead?

Tom shifted uncomfortably in his arms, trying to take the weight off one leg, but didn't otherwise make a sound.

“You’re hurt, aren’t you? How bad is it?” Andy said, trying to look down without letting go of him and assess what might be hidden by the coat. “Do you need a doctor?”

“Nah, I just put me foot in a rabbit hole running up here, well that there’s a few scratches,” Tom said still sounding shaken. “There'd be too many questions if we did. I just need some water an' some disinfectant and I'll give it a clean. It'll be alright, me dad showed me how, and then Nina told me how to do it properly.”

“You should probably still sit down.” Not entirely convinced, that Tom was telling him the truth, Andy helped him limp over to the sofa. “Right, I'll just some water and then I'll find first aid box. I think there's some antiseptic cream in there that's still in date.”

Tom nodded, tired but grateful to be off his feet. 

“We really need to get that shower put in,” Andy said, trying to focus on something ordinary, as he filled a bowl with warm water. If he did that, if he concentrated on the small stuff, he’d be okay, he told himself. Turning back to Tom he almost dropped the bowl. 

Scratches really hadn’t done anything to prepare him for what he saw now that the coat was off. Three bloody gouges were cut into Tom’s skin from his right hip to just above his knee. Two looked relatively shallow, but the third was deeper, bleeding sluggishly again were the scabs had split as Tom had take off his coat. Just as well I’ve not had any breakfast, Andy thought as he closed his eyes and swallowed hard. The claw marks, for what else could they be? brought back memories to a room in the police station where so many officers had been reduced to tattered, bloody flesh. 

“I can do it by myself,” Tom said, sounding worried, as he got up and limped over to him. “You’re not gonna faint, are yer?”

“No.” Andy opened his eyes. 

“No, your not?, or no you don’t know?”

“No,” Andy replied more irritably than he’d meant to. “I’m not that pathetic yet.”

“I weren’t trying to be funny. You’re shaking worse ‘an I am,” Tom said taking the bowl from him and putting it on the coffee table. “What were going on in here?” He nodded towards the broken chair. 

Embarrassed at what he saw as his own stupid overreaction, Andy said quietly, “Me thinking too much. When you didn’t come home…”

“You thought I’d run off and left yer?” Tom interrupted, sounding hurt. “You know I wouldn’t do that.” 

“I course I didn’t. I thought you were hurt or dead, and I’d never see you again.” Andy picked up a cloth out of the bowl he’d got to help clean the cuts on Tom’s leg. “When you knocked, I thought you were the police, that they’d come to tell me that you…” He stopped and took a shaky breath. “That you were…”

“It weren’t.” Tom took hold of his hand. “And I’m okay” He looked down at his leg. “Well mostly. You know what? I could really do with is a cuppa. Why don’t you go make us one?”

Torn between the that that looking too closely at the claw marks made him feel ill, but leaving Tom to deal with it by himself made him feel like the worse person in the world. Somedays he felt like his old self and on others there seemed to be nothing left but mind numbing doubts and the overwhelming feeling that people would be so much better if he wasn’t around. Since Tom had arrive there had been less of the bad days, but in the last couple of months, since finding out his secret there had been more again. 

“I mean it,” Tom said when Andy hadn’t replied. “I ain’t had anything since last night, and you always make better tea ‘an me. So could yer?”

Andy nodded, grateful beyond words that Tom was so understanding. He still felt sick, cold and wobbly, but able for now to function. Just breathe and don’t think, Andy told himself, just get through the next few minutes. Live on the good days and survive the bad ones, and try if you could, although sometimes climbing Everest would have been easier, to remember that the good ones would eventually come again.

“Do want anything to eat?” Andy asked, carefully not looking at his leg. 

“Not really, but I should I ‘spose. I didn’t eat last night.” Tom shivered. “Just as well an’ all, being all there was were...well it were nothing I’d wanna eat.”

"I'll do sandwiches," Andy said, reasonably sure that they were easy enough that he couldn't mess then up, but would occupy him enough that he could avoid thinking about anything more complex than why resealable packets of cheese rarely worked like they were supposed to. 

Andy turned back to Tom, who seemingly given up on his leg which looked no cleaner than it had before and was now trying to wipe the grime off the rest of him. See two, small round burns on his chest, Andy swallowed hard, trying not to imagine them being made with a cigarette.

Seeing that he was staring, Tom said, sounding angry rather than upset, “It were a taser, that’s how they got me. I were going to buy us fish and chips and then call you to pick me up, and then they showed up. She said bunch of stuff, about how I were a dog, then they tasered me and shoved me in a van, and took me out some old farm." He shook his head, hands balling into fists. "They'd got these cages an' stuff, an a mircophone and seats and stuff.They’d bin doing it for months, taking people and werewolves or them things and making them fight. Making then them kill each other for fun. An’ they’ll keep doin’ it and people’ll keep dyin’. I shouldn’t have run after they’d done with me. I should stayed an’ stopped them. It’s what me dad would have done. He would have staked ‘em all, and...” 

“Stop,” Andy said, worried by how worked up Tom was getting. “If they’re as dangerous as you say they then they could have kill you.”

“Not if I’d bin smart about it and got them one at a time like he taught me.” 

“They could still have got lucky, they have only needed to do it once.” Andy shivered, thankful that Tom had run, put his own life first for what seemed like the first time. “It’s not your job to stop them, there must be…”

“What some super secret organisation that go round dealing’ with weird stuff? What makes yer think they wouldn’t have thought werewolves weren't just as bad? No, there ain’t nobody else gonna do it,” Tom said, sounding more bitter than Andy had ever heard him. “Why’d yer think me and me dad did it all those years? It weren’t for fun, were it? Me dad knew what being a cage like that were like, he were in one more ‘an once. He said it changed you.”

Andy's blood ran cold. “It could happen again?” 

“The vampires know I’m here, well they know I go in to Rhayader work and shop and stuff. They were waiting for me, it weren’t just chance. So either I run and hide until the next time they find me, or I stop them or...well they stop me,” Tom said, not looking at him. 

Shouting and raging at the unfairness of it all wouldn’t help, but for a moment that was all Andy wanted to do. Perhaps they could both run together, they could keep moving, then they wouldn’t be found. Yet that would be dragging Tom back to his childhood life of never staying anywhere long enough to settle down and really start to live. He couldn’t do that to him. But how could they fight vampires and things with claws? They needed help and there really was only one place that might be be able to help with vampires. Torchwood. 

Maybe the thing really was a weevil, Andy thought miserably. That would be just his luck that it would be his past that had come back rip into the life they’d made together to shreds. He closed his eyes. He remembered standing on a cold, windy rooftop, with Rhys wondering where the hordes of creatures had gone. Maybe this all came back to being his fault somehow, he should have made sure that they really were gone. Uncertain whether he wanted to know the answer or not Andy said, “Tell me about the thing.”

“Whatdya want to know about that for?” Tom said, confused. “It were horrible, and I ain’t seen nothing like it before. An’ I don’t want to again.”

“I think I might know what it is.” 

“There ain’t much to tell, it had teeth an’ claws, and this long wrinkly face, and it had on a stinky old overall, boiler suit thing.” Tom paused, and Andy could almost heard him frown. “That’s about it. It really did stink though, like it’d been stuck down the bog or something.” 

“It’s called a weevil,” Andy said wishing now that he hadn’t asked. “We had them in Cardiff. I saw them, a couple of years ago, dozens of them. They killed...um...well, some people, police officers, I knew some of them. Not like really good friends, but still. I saw what they could do.”

Tom took hold of his hand, holding it tight like he was never planning on letting it go. “I’m sorry.”

Andy nodded, fighting to stay calm and knowing it was likely to a losing battle. “But it means there’s somebody we can call. She used to work with me, but then she went to work for this organisation, doing secret bloody weird stuff, catching aliens. She could help us.” 

“Aliens?” Tom looked at him wide eyed with something almost like excitement. “What like that Men in Black film with cockroach man and talking dog.” 

“I told you Cardiff was weird,” Andy replied. “But no cockroach men or talking dogs, just this big black 4x4 and this American, well I think he was anyway, who used to flirt with everybody, seemed to think he could do what he like.” 

“How much do you trust them?” Tom asked, sound less than happy with what he had just heard. "'cause there’s no way of doing this without letting them know what I am.”

“It’s not really a them anymore,” Andy said, remembering the last time he’d seen them all together. It seemed so long ago now. “It’s only Gwen now, but she knows other people and I’m sure she could get them to do something without them having to know the whole story.”

Tom looked at him scared and hopeful at the same time. “You really sure about this?” 

Andy worried his lip between his teeth, not seeing any other viable options open to them."As sure as I can be.”

“Are you gonna call her now?” Tom said abandoning his attempt at cleaning himself up in favour of drinking his tea. 

“Yes, sooner we do something the better, right?” Picking up his phone Andy paused. What was he going to say? 'Hi, Gwen. You know I'm with Tom. Well he's a werewolf, but don't worry he's really sweet once you get to know him, only he can seem a bit strange sometimes on account of him being raised in the woods by the man who killed his parents.' Yeah, that would go down well. Not.

He ran a his hand through his hair, knowing that if he thought about it much more he'd end up talking himself out of it. “Hi, Gwen. It’s Andy, are you somewhere you can talk?”

There was a brief pause and then Gwen asked, “What’s happened? You sound awful.”

“Are you somewhere you can talk?” Andy asked again.

“It’s ten past eight on a Sunday morning, I’m at home,” Gwen replied sounding worried. “Are you alright?” 

“I’m fine, sort of, mostly. Tom was grabbed by…” he stopped, knowing that he’d reached the point where it was either tell her the truth or bottle the attempt entirely. 

“Andy are you still there? Is he alright? Are you?” Gwen asked. “Seriously whatever you need I’m here. Have you called the police?”

“No, I can’t. Because it’s weevils and vampires and...and you’ve got to promise me you won’t do anything to Tom if I tell you anything else. Gwen, please.”

“What did he do? If he’s hurt a weevil or something, I’m not going to blame him. I know what those things can do.”

“And you think I don’t?” Andy said angrily, although he knew Gwen hadn’t meant it badly. “Look just promise you won’t do anything to him or oh I don’t know, just forget I called.”

“You know I can’ do that. I worry about about you. Look as long as he’s not hurt you, then alright I promise.” 

“He’d never hurt me,” Andy said shocked that she could think such a thing. “Just remember he’s a nice bloke, the best and I love him.”

“Andy, just tell me.”

“He’s a werewolf. And there are vampires too and they catch werewolves, just grab them off the street and people too and they lock them in cage and make the fight. And they made Tom fight a weevil and he’s hurt, but he got away and I don’t know what to do, and I just want it all to stop, so we can be happy again.” Andy stopped breathless and wondering whether anything that he’d said had been intelligible. 

There was silence at the other end of the phone and Andy’s heart sank. They had money, he told himself, they could leave the farm behind, they could find somewhere that both the vampires and Torchwood couldn’t find them.

“And I thought my life was weird,” Gwen said eventually. “Look if you trust Tom, then I guess I’ll have to too. As for the rest we can talk about it when I get there. Just give me the direction and I’ll be there in a couple of hours. Rhys is taking Ceri over to visiting his parents in an hour or so, I don’t think Brenda will mind too much if I don’t come.” Gwen sounded relieved rather than disappointed at not getting to spend Sunday lunch with her mother-in-law. After a pause she said, “How are you and Tom? Really, I mean?”

“I love him,” Andy replied, knowing that Tom could hear every word he said. “None of this weird stuff changes that.”

“I meant about him being grabbed. You said he was hurt, were you there? Are you alright?”

“I wasn’t there,” Andy replied, wondering if perhaps he had been whether the vampires wouldn’t have taken Tom or whether they would have just got both of them and tried to feed them to a weevil. “Tom got clawed by the weevil. Not too deep, he says he’d fine. It’s a bit of mess, but we’ve done the best we can. He said they tasered him as well.” 

“You should really get him to go to a doctor and get him to give him some antibiotics or something, you never know where the weevil has been. Although the sewer is pretty good guess.”

“And how do we explain it?” Andy said, “Tell them he accidentally annoyed a lion while getting the morning paper?"

“I suppose there is that,” Gwen replied. “Look I’ll call somebody I know, she’s a doctor. I’ll get her to send a prescription through to your nearest chemist with Sunday opening.”

“You can do that?” Andy thought for a moment then said. “Actually why am I surprised Torchwood always did whatever they liked. Nothing's changed there then.”

“Hey, don’t you get snappy with me,” Gwen said, sounding more concerned than annoyed. “You called me for help remember - who else are you going to call for bloody weird stuff like this otherwise?”

Andy sighed. “I know. I’m just…”

“Totally freaked out?” Gwen said sympathetically. “When Rhys found out what we did and he got shot-”

“Bloody hell, is he okay?”

“Yes, it was months, years ago, back before we got married. What I’m trying to say is don’t be too hard on yourself. What you can deal with when it’s work and a stranger is different than when it’s somebody you love. It’s hard, so don’t make it any worse by blaming yourself.”

Easier said than done, Andy thought, certain that he wasn’t going to be able to manage it. “Right, so I’ll email you the direction from Rhayader, you should be able to find there okay.”

“I mean it,” Gwen said. “If you go blaming yourself you’ll end up feeling so bad that you’ll be no use to anyone."

"Not like I am anyway," Andy replied before he could stop himself. 

"I'll be there as as soon as I can," Gwen said, sounding like she wished she could get there immediately. "So look after yourself and that man of yours, and we'll sort this out. I promise."

“I’ll see you soon then,” Andy said ending the call. 

From behind him on the sofa Tom asked, "So now what do we do?" 

Crawl into bed and hide from the world, Andy thought, turning back to face him. That would solve nothing though. He’d be letting everybody down if he did. He just had to hold it all together a bit long. He picked up his own mug of tea. “We should eat and then get you cleaned up.”

 

Just over an hour and a half later, there was the rumble of a high powered engine outside and Andy looked out of the window to see a sleek, new black range rover pull up at the edge of the farmyard.

"Is that her?" Tom asked, trying to look without getting up.

Wishing that Tom were rather more dressed than just wearing underwear and a bandage round his thigh, Andy nodded and went to open the door. 

Standing behind Gwen was Jack and... Andy stared at Ianto for a moment, mind rebelling at the fact that a person who he knew to be dead was now standing in front of him looking like he’d just come out of a business meeting, all smart suit and holding a high end laptop. Then he sighed and shook his head. “You know what? I've given up on being surprised by anything anymore. Do any of you want a cup of tea.”

TBC


	32. Chapter 32

“This is Gwen,” Andy said, showing who Tom guessed were team Torchwood into their living room. “And this is Jack and Ianto.”

Gwen looked like a sensible sort of person which was a relief, given that she was apparently somebody who worked for the Queen hunting aliens for a living. That two more of them had turned up unannounced was actually rather worrying, as he’d only thought that there would be Gwen. Although they probably did need all the help they could get it they were going to shut down the vampires dogfights as fast as they could. Tom frowned as he looked at Jack and Ianto. There was a nagging sense of something familiar about them, and then the memory clicked. “It's you, from the hotel.”

Ianto stared at him for a moment then looked away embarrassed, while Jack just stepped forward to shake his hand. “Who knew werewolves were so cute.”

“Does anybody want to tell me what is going on?” Gwen asked, looking first at Jack and then at Andy, who returned her baffled look.

“It appears we met briefly in a hotel at Christmas. We were in the same lift,” Ianto replied, eyes fixed on the floor rather than at anybody in the room.

“How does he,” Tom pointed to Jack. “Know what I am? And for the record, what they were doin' in the lift anybody'd remember. He had his hand down...” He looked at Gwen and stopped. “Well it were somewhere I'd say shoulda waited 'til they weren't in a lift.”

Gwen looked like she was trying hard not to laugh as she said, “I've seen worse working with those two, believe me.” She turned more serious as she added, “I've told them both about you being a werewolf because if we are going to help there's going to be no more keeping secrets from the rest of the team. Not about things we're working on.” She looked at Jack and Ianto like she was daring them to contradict her on it. They didn't.

It was fair, Tom supposed, but he still didn't particularly like it. Andy had been the first normal person he'd told about being a werewolf, and now the fact was apparently known to everybody who worked for Torchwood. “So just how many of you lot are there?” he asked, knowing he sounded annoyed and not really caring if they knew it.

“This is it,” Jack said, gesturing broadly. “Small but perfectly formed.”

“He's the flirty one, ain't he?” Tom asked Andy, starting to feel a little uncomfortable now in a way that had nothing to do with his injured leg. “The one you said about.”

“That would be Jack,” Andy replied sounding more resigned to the fact than amused. “I guess some things never change.”

“Hey, that’s not fair,” Jack said, speaking to Andy for the first time since they arrive. The fake indignation in his voice almost covered the real the hurt in his eyes, and Tom had almost decided to step in in case an argument started when Ianto spoke.

“Right well, now we have all been suitably introduced and embarrassed by it,” Ianto said pointedly. Placing the laptop he'd brought with him onto the table, faced them all. “Perhaps we could turn our attention to vampires, rather than where Jack's hands may have been."

Jack laughed, apparently not caring what people thought about him, while Gwen looked amused and Andy shook his head. Tom decided it probably wasn't best to point out that it hadn't actually been Jack's hands that he'd been talking about.

“Well that’s us told,” Gwen said sounding relieved.

"What you got on there about vampires then?" Tom asked. "'Cause I bet it ain't much. They don't mix right well with a lot of modern stuff."

Ianto glanced round at Jack before explaining. "We've got some data on our mainframe, but the undead were never really within the remit of Torchwood." He switched on the laptop which booted up quickly to show a swirling blue desktop.

"Do you want the network password, so you can get online?" Andy asked, trying to get a better look at what he was doing.

Ianto shook his head. "Secure satellite uplink. But thank you for the offer."

There really wasn't much visible from the sofa, so Tom stood up carefully, testing his weight on his injured leg before attempting to go anywhere. Falling flat on his face wasn't the sort of impression that he wanted to make. The scratches hurt, but it was his ankle that felt unstable, the joint puffy from where he'd wrenched it when he'd been little more than a quarter of a mile from home a few hours earlier. It'd heal, he knew. Physical injuries always seemed to fix themselves fast. Not as fast as he'd like, but still faster than normal people would. Why it never worked like that with colds and stuff he had no idea.

It wasn't far from the sofa to the kitchen table, but Tom was grateful to sit back down. Sat in the seat next to Ianto, he was relieved that he had either managed not to let any pain show on his face or that Andy had been too occupied with talking to Gwen, who'd taken him help to make them some tea. He didn't want Andy to worry about him any more than he already had been.  
Getting things sorted out quickly so their lives could get back to normal was probably what he needed most. "Right, so do you want to know about vampires or just the ones that got me?” He asked.

“Is there a difference?” Ianto asked with a frown.

“Not really, I 'spose. They're all vamps in the end, they all mess up yer life one way or another, or kill yer.” He looked round at Andy, who fortunately had not appeared to have heard, and decided that toning it down a bit was probably the way forward.

“How about we start with the vampire that took you?” Jack said, joining them. “Can you give us a name?”

“Yeah, her name were Audrey, and she had a motorbike. And she had these two blokes, well vampires, Bill and Ben working for her, it were their van they stuck me in, after they'd tasered me. Oh and there were this another vampire at the farm called Joe, who knew Audrey, he seemed to know a lot about what were going on. And there were lots more who'd come to watch the fight, must've bin about forty odd, but I don't know what any of them was called.”

“Number plate it is then,” Ianto said, opening about half a dozen windows on the laptop. “Do you know where and when you were taken?”

As Tom went through the details he realised that Ianto was hacking into the CCTV feed for Rhayader without any apparent difficulty. He let him work for a moment before saying, “You do know vampires don't show up on cameras and stuff, right?”

“I read the notes that we had available,” Ianto said, the look that he gave Jack suggested that perhaps Jack hadn't. “But unless their odd ability is somehow passed on to their vehicles, I should still be able to...” Ianto stopped, as the footage now playing on screen showed Tom apparently talking to himself.

It was unfortunate, Tom decided, that Andy should pick that moment to join them, as a second later he saw himself fall to the ground shaking and twitching. Andy stared at the screen. “Oh god, is that how...” He turned away, eyes closed and shoulders tense. “Do we have to...”

“No,” Ianto pausing the footage. "I can retrieve the number plate information later. Opening another window on the screen, he said to Tom, "Are you up to narrowing down the search area of where they took you?"

"Course I am," Tom replied, not sure why they'd think he wasn't. It was only his leg that was hurt, not his head. "It were this big old farm about five or six miles north west of here. It smelt like used to be a pig farm in the last few years, but they're all gone now." He closed his eyes trying to recall any more detail about the place and the route they'd taken from Rhayader. "It were set back from the road a bit, not as far as here is, so maybe about a quarter of a mile or so." It wasn't much to go on, and he opened his eyes again. "I might be able to think of bit more in a minute."

"That's more than enough to start with," Ianto said, sounding impressed that Tom had recalled anything at all. "Do you think if I found an aerial view of the farm you could identify it?"

"Yeah, I think so. I mean it ain't like I'm gonna forget that place in a hurry."

"That's Google maps," Andy said, sounding distinctly unimpressed as he looked in at what they were doing again. "We're going to track down the undeads answer to the collaseum using Google? I thought you lot were more X-Files than that."

"If it works, don't knock it," Jack said. He turned to Ianto. "Okay then, time to do your thing."

There were only four farms in the area Tom was sure the farm had been. Two were instantly ruled out as one was a very large barn reared chicken farm, while the other was little more than a small holding with only single, small old barn that couldn't possibly have held the arena and cages that the vampires had built. There was little to chose between the other two and Tom was about to suggest that they drove out there and have a look around when Ianto said, "Are you sure that it used to be a pig farm?"

Tom thought for a moment. The smell of pigs had been strong, but it hadn't been fresh. "As sure as I can be. The place really ponged."

A minute or so later Ianto said, "Pen Mawr farm. They sold bacon and sausages to various supermarket chains before they went out of business two years ago."

"Looks like it's time to pay our pointy teeth friends a little visit," Jack said. He looked at Tom and then at the bandage on his leg. "You up to a bit of field work?"

"No, he's not," Andy said, horrified that they were even suggesting it. "You shouldn't be walking around. Tom, tell them you won't do it."

"I can't, 'cause he's right. We ain't gonna find out anything else sitting around here," Tom said, getting up. His leg throbbed, but stayed steady under him. He could do this. "If it really starts hurting I can always sit down, can't I?"

"They could still be there. Have you even thought of that?" Andy snapped, turning away from them, and going to stand by the window, fingers gripping white knuckled at the sill.

"We don't expect him to fight," Gwen said, trying to defuse the situation. "We'll make sure he stays safe."

"Torchwood. Safe," Andy replied incredulously. "Do you really expect me to believe that? They had a bloody weevil, how is that safe?”

“I wanna go,” Tom said, limping over to him and putting his hand over Andy's. “It wouldn't feel right not doing it. I mean what if something happened to them because I weren't there to tell'em about vampires? I mean they might think sunlight might kill'em, like it do in films and then where'd they be? I feel bad enough fer not stakin' them this morning as it is.”

"Then I'm coming with you," Andy said, looking and sounding like what he wanted to do was run and hide. “I can’t stay here waiting and wondering if you’re...please don’t ask me to do that.”

“Huh, sunlight really doesn't work?” Jack said sounding a little disappointed. “I'm guessing the UV gun is out then.”

“It would appear so,” Ianto replied, not sounding sorry in the least. “If we ever get those stellar jellyfish back you can use it then and I promise not to complain about how much they explode.”

“Really? Because you getting all angry...” Jack grinned. “It’s kinda hot.”

“We're working,” Ianto said, sounding like he'd had to say it dozens of times before. “So you can save that for later.”

“Not the right time?” Jack said, sounding rather more contrite now.

“What do you think?” Tom replied, wondering how Torchwood managed to get anything done or to be honest who was actually in charge or if they were just making it up as they went along. 

 

0X0X0X0

Tom knew it was the right place even before they got out of the range rover. It looked a little different in the daylight, more run down and derelict than he’d originally thought, with the only sign that the farm had been visited recently being the tire tracks in the mud. There was no sign of Audrey’s bike or the van that had brought him there. Winding down the window, Tom sniffed the air. “I reckon they’re gone.”

“Time to take a look,” Jack said, getting out of the SUV. “Gwen, you're with Ianto, I'll take Tom and Andy.”

The afternoon was cool and damp, and Tom was glad that he'd had time to get dressed before they'd set off, although he wished he'd not lost his old trainers – it didn't seem right going hunting for vampires in his slippers, but it had been those or nothing as trying to wear his hiking boots had been too uncomfortable and he couldn't borrow Andy's as they were about three sizes too big.

The slippers squished wetly in the farmyard mud, as he got out of the SUV, and Tom decided that having a spare pair for transformation related incidents probably wouldn't be a bad plan. He'd probably have to replace the slippers as well now, he thought glumly at the idea of shoe shopping, vampires really did mess everything up.

His ankle was throbbing by the time they’d made a circuit of the outbuildings and he was sure that the deepest of the scratches had split again, but his determination to see to see it though remained undimmed. Andy had kept close to his side was jumpy, he could see it, shoulders tight, eyes darting around him like he expected attack at any moment. Jack had walked ahead of them, the vintage gun from the equally old looking leather holster on his belt, drawn. For all his flirting and easy laugh, Jack was, Tom decided, far more dangerous than people might first assume. He knew enough about fighting to know somebody who was ready for just about anything that might happen. Combined with the fact that Jack smelt different to any other human or supernatural he'd ever encountered, Tom was sure that the vampires had made themselves an enemy that they really didn't want in crossing Jack or Torchwood.

The farmhouse was empty, all the furniture and anything that might once have once made it a home removed. There was the faint scent of vampire in all the rooms, but nothing to suggest that they used the farmhouse any more than they used the barn.

“It's locked,” Ianto said, as they joined him and Gwen at the door to the barn. Taking something from his pocket he put it into the padlock and twisted, and it snapped open. “But not for long.”

Tom listened at the door for a moment, but there was no sound from within, nothing to suggest it wasn't as empty as the rest of the farm. Guns drawn, Jack and Gwen moved into the building, only calling for them to come in once the lighting was switched on and they were sure that they were the only ones there.

Inside the barn the cages and arena had been hosed down, the floor still damp with water and what smelt like bleach. The bodies Lucy and Gordon were gone, and Tom hoped that the little he'd remembered about them and told Gwen and Ianto while Jack had driven them to the farm had been enough to find their families. They should be told something, he was sure just so they weren't still waiting and worrying for them to come home. He'd seen what just one night of that had done to Andy, and he hated the idea on anyone else going through it maybe for weeks or even years.

“What do you think they do with the bodies?” Gwen asked looking around at the tiers of seating. “I mean they don’t eat them or anything like that do they?”

Ianto gave Jack a look that was as much revolted as shocked. Jack shook his head. “Vampires are blood only as far as I know. I didn't see any sign of graves out there and they have a van, so I'm guessing they're dumping them somewhere.”

Tom nodded, not wanting to know why the lack of bodies had made them instantly think cannibalism. He limped round the cages, stopping only once he'd found what he'd been looking for. The tooth he'd seen in the corner before the fight had begun. He held it up so they could see. “I dunno if you can do anything with this, like they do on them TV shows, but this were there before the fight, so it belonged to somebody, and it ain't a vampires. So maybe it might help find out who else they've been getting.”

“Hiroxian Resequencer?” Gwen said, taking a packet of tissues out of her coat pocket so that they had something to wrap the tooth in. “Or should we try that thing that looks like broken tuba that came in the other week? The holograms from bits machine?”

Ianto and Jack joined in the conversation talking about things which Tom had no idea what they were or did. Hoping that they weren't talking a load of rubbish and that they did actually have some machine that could figure out who the tooth belonged to, Tom waited while they talked, hoping that they would actually say something he understood or came up with a plan for finding the vampires that wasn't waiting until they came back for the next fight.

No plan or idea came though and a little later, after they had secured the barn door so it looked like they hadn't been there, Tom climbed back into the Torchwood Range Rover. Sore, tired and disheartened, it felt like they had nothing to show for what they had done apart from damp clothes and shoes from the constant drizzling rain. Next month, Tom was sure, Audrey and the rest of her vampires would be right back there watching werewolves and humans fight and die for their entertainment. Andy, who hadn't spoken since they had arrived at the farm, got in and sat down next to him, tension and barely repressed panic radiating off him. Taking Andy's hand in his, Tom held it tight, trying to convince himself that things would somehow all work out for the best in the end.

After a brief detour to a sprawling out of town supermarket complex on the edge of Llandrindod Wells to pick up a prescription for some antibiotics that had somehow been arranged, they'd driven back to Cwm Elan farm to decided on what they should do next.  
At least this felt like they were doing something, Tom thought as he looked at a plan of the farm that Ianto had got on screen, as they went through what would be the best way of containing the vampires inside and rescuing anybody who'd been kidnapped by them for the dog fights.

He'd done this with his dad a few times. Found out where the vampires were holding a fight, made sure that they could prevent them from escaping and then staked as many as they could before they changed and took care of the rest. They'd never managed to save anybody, but it had never been about that. It had been vengeance. Nothing more, nothing less. 

“We could do with somebody like you on the team,” Jack said, putting a hand on Tom's shoulder as he worked with Ianto updating the mainframes record with he knew about vampires and werewolves.. “Resourceful, can handle himself in a fight, easy on the eye. What do you say, Ianto? Room for another?”

Ianto rolled his eyes, looking amused rather than annoyed, but made no comment either way.

“You don't stop, do you,?” Andy snapped suddenly, furious at Jack. “Tom's not going to work for you, he's not risking his life dealing with your weird alien crap. And stop flirting with him.”

"Hey, just take it easy. It it was just a joke," Jack said, making a placating gesture. “It's alright.”

"No," Andy said angrily, taking a step towards him. "No, it's not alright, I'm not alright. I'm fucking fed up with trying to be alright for everybody and with trying to be nice, with trying to do the right thing and getting shit on for it."

"Andy-" Gwen began.

"No, I'm fed up with pretending, I did that for years you know, hid how I felt about everything and made myself so bloody miserable that sometimes I just wanted too..." He stopped, tears in his eyes. "After everything, the job, the..." He gestured hopelessly. "Even mum disowning me, none of that mattered so much anymore because I had Tom, and now you want to drag him into all your weird, spooky crap, and I know enough that people who do get killed or hurt or they lose everything." He stopped again, shaking, chest heaving. "And I can't lose him, he's all I have, and you won't care, because you won't think he's a proper person, but he is and I love him and I can't..."

"I think it’s time you should go," Tom said, positioning himself between them and Andy, hoping that if they were alone Andy might feel a bit more able to deal with what was going on. "There ain't much more I can do to help, not until the next full moon anyway. Andy needs me more'n you lot do, and he's always gonna come first."

"He's right, we should go," Ianto said to Jack, clearly not wanting to intrude and perhaps not knowing what to say. "We've got plenty to work with. Things we can follow up in Cardiff.”

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry," Jack said, as he reached the door. "I really am."

Andy slumped down onto the sofa. "Just go away."

"He'll be okay, won't he?" Gwen asked, pausing at the door once Jack and Ianto had gone outside.

Tom looked back at Andy who was now sitting hunched on the sofa, his head in his hands, shoulders shaking. "Yeah, eventually," he said hoping that it was the truth. "It ain't the first time," he added quietly when Gwen didn't seem convinced. "We'll manage. I won't let anything happen to him."

“I can't believe how calm you are about all this,” Gwen said, seemingly unable to look away from Andy. “Is it part of your...thing. Sort of keep calm or grr argh?"

“Nah, full moon only for that. It's just there ain't no point being anything else,” Tom said, too tired to take any offence. “I know it's all weird to you lot, and I bet your stuff'd be weird to me if I saw it, 'cause I bet there's worse'n weevils, but this, vampires and killing, it's all I've ever done. Got use to it I 'spose."

Gwen shook her head sadly. "I'm sorry. If there's anything you need, you call me, right? I've told Andy the same. I've not got that many friends any more, but the ones I have-" She put a hand on his arm. "I'll do whatever it takes to keep them safe, you've got my word on that."

It would be a very unwise person to cross her, Tom decided. It was actually rather comforting, it reminded him a bit of Annie, who'd been the nicest, most understanding person ever unless you hurt her friends and then, well you'd certainly know about it – although perhaps not for long. "I know, and thanks."

Once they were alone Tom sat down next to Andy and put an arm around him. "Do yer wanna talk or anything?"

Eyes closed and shivering once more, Andy shook his head, as he leaned into the embrace. 

"Right then, how about we both get some sleep then?" Tom gave him a small squeeze, hoping that he was doing the right thing.. “I reckon we could both do with it.”

“Thank you,” Andy said, voice barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, it ain’t your fault, it’s bin a horrible day,” Tom said standing up and hoping Andy would following him. “So it’s gotta be a better one tomorrow.”

Andy didn’t particularly looked like he believed him, but followed him silently into the bedroom.  
Not caring that both of them were still dressed, Tom lifted back the covers so they could both get in. Lying in bed, with Andy's head resting on his shoulder, Tom curled an arm about him. It felt good, like he was protecting him. He wondered if it was okay that he needed to protect him as much as Andy needed the reassurance that he wasn't alone and that he was loved, if it was wrong or weird that he should be taking something in return.

Time drifted as he tried to lie still and let Andy rest. His leg throbbed and Tom wasn't sure he could ever remember being so tired, yet sleep wouldn't come, thoughts chasing each other round his head about what he should have done differently both with the vampires and with not letting things get to a state where Andy couldn’t deal with them anymore. Lying awake, he watched the tension on Andy face ease as he slipped deeper into sleep.

No alternatives to what he’d done which would have had a better outcome presented themselves and nothing but killing the vampires before they could do it again came to mind as a plan for the future. As soon as he felt a bit better he'd start training, Tom promised himself. He'd let it slide, he knew. It had been months since he'd done anything more strenuous than chop wood or go for walk. He looked at Andy, calm now in sleep, his resolve strengthening. Next full moon, whether he had Torchwood's help or not he'd make the vampires sorry they'd ever intruded on their life together. He'd make sure they were safe, whatever it took.


	33. Chapter 33

The first few days that followed what Andy considered to be his utterly humiliating meltdown in front of Torchwood had been at best frustrating and at worst downright horrible. He'd felt wretched, convinced that everybody thought that he was as useless and pathetic as he'd convinced himself he was. He'd been dreading a repeat of how sick Tom had been with the flu just a few months earlier. Whether it had been the antibiotics or, as Tom had claimed, that the wolf helped heal up injuries quicker than it would for normal people, within a few days he was moving around much easier. 

Even that had come with its problems, as every time Tom left the house, he'd ended up worrying what had happened to him until he'd come back in again. There were some benefits though, if he could get past the worry. Tom's decision to exercise, usually wearing nothing more than his old cut off shorts had certainly been distracting.

And now, Andy thought, looking at the clock, in a few short hours would be moonrise and it would all begin again or worse it would all end. The closer it had got to today the more his fears had returned. Part of him wanted to to think that those fears were ridiculous, that he was blowing things out of all proportion. Yet how was it irrational to be scared when the person you loved might come to harm while fighting the undead and turning into werewolf while backed up back worlds least secret secret alien fighting team. His life was so bloody weird that working out was irrational just didn't seem to work. 

“We could just run away from all this,” Andy said, even though he knew what the answer would be.

"They'd just find us, well maybe not the same vampires, but there's others, there always is," Tom said sounding resigned to the fact. He got up from the table, taking the stake he'd been working on with him. "They never leave yer alone, not ever. That's why me and me dad got rid of as many as we could. It were like a public service I 'spose."

"We could just let Torchwood handle it," Andy suggested, doubting that would be any more successful at keeping Tom out of harms way.

"No, this fights mind more 'an theirs and running ain't the answer. Otherwise you'll never stop. Lives are for living, that's the way I see it, or why else would you have one?” Tom said putting the stake into holdall on the floor by the sofa. “I've only ever heard of one werewolf living until he got old. I got to meet him, he were a top bloke, used to run this barbers shop down by the sea. Most of us only live a few years after we're changed though, an' I've had more 'an twenty years so....” he stopped seeing Andy's devastated expression. “No, no, I don't mean it like that. You know I'm crap at talking about stuff like this. So don't worry, I'm planning on being around for years, so you'll have me for ages.”

"Don't worry?" Andy said incredulously, wondering just how Tom had thought it was even remotely fair to tell him what he had and then expect him not to worry. "You think I want to worry? That I like it? Do you think I want to spend my life imagining just how bad things can get? Do you think I enjoy feeling so sodding overwhelmed by it all I don't want to get out of bed or speak to anyone? Does that sound even remotely fun to you?"

"Course it don't, an' you think I don't get it?” Tom said hurt and angry. "Do you think I'm too thick to feel anything about what's happened? I'm just a dumb animal underneath it all? Who don't get what it's like, or to feel like yer such a failure at being a person that you don't deserve to...why'd ya think I ran away and ended up here? Because I thought I were nothing, I were just a thing pretending I were human."

"Tom..." Andy said, hating the raw look in Tom’s eyes and knowing he was the cause of it. “I’m sorry, I’ve never thought that.” 

“Nah, I shouldn’t’ve said it. Just forget it. I’ll be fine, and after tonight it’ll go back to how it was. I promise, I'm gonna make sure it does.” Tom turned away and started looking through the holdall, although it was clear he was doing it as a distraction rather than out of any need to actually find anything in it. “After tonight it all be fine. It will.”

“It’s okay to be scared, you don’t have to pretend for me. I don’t want you to have to.” Andy put a hand on his shoulder, feeling the tension there. “I don’t need you to protect me.”

“Yes, I do. ‘Cause I need to, ‘cause I ain’t got anything else t’offer yer. Least I can do is make sure yer okay. An’ I know I ain’t right good at it, but I’m trying.” Lifting Andy’s hand off his shoulder, Tom turned round to face him again. “I don’t think I’ve ever bin as happy as I am here with you. You and this place, living like normal people, it’s all I’ve ever wanted, and I’m gonna do whatever it takes to make sure nothing's gonna ruin it.”

It was too easy to forget the insecurities that were hidden beneath Tom’s almost perpetually cheerful exterior, Andy thought, uncertain of how to reassure him when the fears were so close to his own. 

“I just don’t wanna lose you,” Tom said, when Andy hadn’t replied. “Not like I’ve lost everybody else.” 

“You won't,” Andy replied, pulling him close, unable to silence the thought that he was much more likely to lose Tom than it to be the other way around. “Why were we even arguing?”

“I dunno,” Tom said, looking up at him. “We can be right daft about stuff, can't we?”

If things went wrong tonight this could be the last time they were together he thought wildly, pulling Tom tightly against him and kissing him. 

Tom responded, gripping him tight, pushing against him. it was rougher than usual, but they need it, Andy needs it more than air at that moment and if the way Tom was trying to get his clothes he was just as desperate for this moment together. 

Falling backward on the sofa with Tom on top of him, Andy knew they’d have bruises, but it felt so good to just let go, he really didn’t care. 

OXOXOXO

A couple of the cushions were going to need a good wash or maybe just replacing, but Andy didn't care in the slightest. There were aches in all kinds of interesting places too and he was sure he was going to be sporting a pretty spectacular love bite on the back of his neck for a quite a while to come, but none of that mattered. 

He didn’t want to move, not yet and if he was honest not any time soon. Because once they did the moment and maybe everything else would be over. Closing his eyes, Andy was half asleep when there was a knock at the door. He opened them again to see Tom looking at him with a panicked expression.

"That's them, ain't it?"

"Yeah, they do pick their times, don't they?" Andy said, knowing that there was no way to disguise what they had been doing. Although part of him was mortified at the idea of anybody letting anybody into the house right now, the other part had a certain smug satisfaction that Jack 'I flirt with everybody, even in front of my boyfriend' Harkness would be left in little doubt he and Tom were most definitely happy together. Grabbing a towel, Andy wrapped it round his waist and went to open the door. 

Gwen looked at him and then at Tom, who was holding strategically placed cushion. Tom gave her a rabbit caught in the headlights look, before pointing at the bedroom door and saying, “I'm gonna get some clothes now.” 

“Do you want us to go back out for a few minutes?” Gwen said, looking back over her shoulder to Jack and Ianto, who had by now seen enough to know what was going on. 

There was no reason why he should be the only one to be embarrassed, Andy decided. Holding the towel firmly in place he stepped aside. "Come in, just don't sit on the sofa."

Jack grinned, but didn't comment, although Andy suspected that was partially due to the look that Ianto gave him and the quiet, "We're working, remember."

Gwen looked complete unfazed by it, and said more amused anything else, "Still not as bad as working with them."

“So this is it then?” Andy looked at Gwen, Jack and Ianto who looked no better prepared to deal with anything than when they'd just come to talk. “Three of you against who knows how many vampires and weevils?”

“Six,” Ianto said, moving to stand by the window, looking out like he was waiting for somebody. “Martha Jones and Mickey Smith will be joining us shortly, and Tom has agreed to help.”

“Seven,” Andy said, knowing it probably wasn't even slightly advisable for him get into a situation where they would probably have fight for their lives, the idea of it terrified him, but letting them go without him, sitting at home wondering if they would all return alive, and if they didn't, whether having an extra person with them would have made a difference, was far worse to contemplate. His stomach churned, fear clawing at him, any good feelings he'd had just minutes earlier evaporating. He took a deep breath, determined that he wasn't going to let Tom face this alone. “I'm not letting you all go off without me. You know I've always wanted to see what you lot did. I'm not going to miss this."

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Jack said, sounding like he didn’t really care if anybody did. “But you’re going to be more of a liability than a help from what I saw last time. We can’t spare anybody to look after you if you go to pieces again. This is my team and I'm not putting them in any more danger than they already are."

“I’d just had a bad day, " Andy said, knowing it was was an understatement and that what he was going to say next would be bordering on an outright lie. "You try not sleeping or eating for a full day, while worrying about somebody you love and see whether you get a bit snappy.” 

"If he says he's gonna be okay, then I believe him," Tom said coming out of the bedroom and going to stand with Andy. "I don't want him to be in danger either, but were gonna need everyone we can get. An' even if all he does in sit in the car so we can get out there fast if it goes wrong then he's still useful."

Jack gave them a sceptical look. "Not if he drives us into a tree."

"If he thinks he can manage then we should let him come," Ianto said, from where he was setting out the plans on the kitchen table. "Just think about it. If it were me, going off with something like UNIT, would you want to be told to stay at home and wait?"

Jack shook his head. "It'd never happen. I'm always..."

Ianto gave him a warning look. Then getting close to him said quietly, "Valient. You didn't have to go with me."

Jack sounded shaken as he replied. “It was a security conference.”

“Where somebody had already got eaten and another had exploded,” Ianto said not backing down. 

“I’m not winning this one, am I?” Jack said, then looking at Gwen he said. “Any time you want to back me up on this, feel free.”

Gwen looked torn about it. Turning to Andy she said, “Are you sure you’re going to be okay if come with us?” 

“I know I’m not going to be if I have to wait here by myself wondering if you’re all dead,” Andy replied, hoping that it would help his case rather than hinder it. "So I'm coming with you, and..."

Outside there was the rumble of a motorbike engine, and Tom hurried past him and. grabbed a stake that Andy hadn't even realised that had been hidden by door. He dropped into a crouch as if waiting for attack. Tense, but ready Tom waved them away from the door. “All of yer, keep back.” 

Ianto looked out of the window. “It's Martha and Mickey.”

“Who?” Tom said, still not relaxing, his fingers clenched white knuckled about the stake.

“They work with us, they're here to stop the vampires,” Gwen said, holding out her hand as if she expected Tom to hand the stake to her. 

“Yer coulda told me they had a bike,” Tom said accusingly, as walked past her and put the stake down on the table with rather more force than was necessary. "I thought it were Audrey, didn't I?"

“I didn't know,” Gwen said, opening the door to let them in. “Although I suppose they chose it because they'd have never got Mickey's van up here.” 

Torchwood, the professional section. Andy decided, as he hung back while greetings were exchanged. It was the busiest he suspected that the farm had been in years, and the small living room looked overcrowded with so many people in it. It wasn't a lot of people really, but it made him uncomfortable, and he wished that asking them to leave and just give him some space for a moment was an option. They'd be gone soon enough, he reminded himself, and there was no point wishing time away, now with what was shortly going to happen.

"Tom knows more about this than any of us," Jack said, turning to Tom. "So over to you."

Tom nodded and went over to the plan of Pen Mawr farm Ianto had spread out on the table. “Right well, The vampires gonna be pretty well organised. They've been running this for months or longe without havin' bin found out. I mean if I hadn't won me fight and legged it you'd still not know.”

“How many are we looking at?” Mickey asked. "And are they likely to be shooting at us."

“Probably not shooting, they do have a taser though, and it hurts. Running it and doing the catching, probably four to eight, including Audrey and Bill and Ben. Coming to watch? Could be anythin' up to fifty or sixty.” Tom looked down at the plan of the building the vampires were using, that Ianto had spread out on the table. “It ain't right big in there, you saw the place, so I'd say probably on the lower end.”

“Bill and Ben?” Mickey said, looking at everybody. “Like the the flowerpot men?” 

Tom frowned. “I don't remember seein' any flower pots, I think they worked doing drives and maybe garage roofs and stuff, because Audrey vampired them.” 

“You don't know who...” Mickey stopped and looked at Jack. “He's not an alien is he?”

Jack shook his head. “Definitely not that.” 

“Alright, vamp killin' basics. Forget all that film stuff, half of it don't work and the other half only works a bit. All that crosses an' religious stuff don't work unless you really, really believe in it, as otherwise it'll just make them feel a little bit weird and they'll just knock it out yer hand and rip yer throat out. Garlic don't work for anything other than to disguise your scent, so maybe yer could try an’ make them think there were less of yer. Daylight won't help, they can walk around in it all they like, although they might put on some sunglasses if it gets really bright.”

“Although I assume stakes work,” Ianto said, nodding towards the one Tom had left on the table.

“Yep." Tom picked it up. “Stake through the heart works every time, it's what I usually do. You can cut their head off or if they've not been a vamp for long breaking their necks seems to work. I'd always stake'm afterwards though just to make sure. Oh and setting fire to them or exploding them is good if there's a lot of them.” He smiled without any of his usual warmth. “I've done that too. Werewolf blood works an' all. Like acid on their skin and if they drink it, they're done for. Pretty horrible to watch though.”

“Just how many vampires have you killed?” Jack asked, looking at Tom and seeming undecided whether to be horrified or impressed.

“I dunno. Must be at least sixty. A lot were when I were huntin' with me dad though and a fair few were in a warehouse that got blew up. One's I actually staked thought, I reckon at least thirty five.” He frowned. “You know, I think it's probably more than that. Do yer really need an exact number?”

“No,” Ianto said, looking like he was reconsidering just how dangerous Tom might be. “I really don't think that will be necessary.” 

“How old did you say he was?” Gwen asked quietly.

“Twenty two,” Andy replied, heart aching for Tom's lost childhood. “He told me his dad took him out to kill his first vampire when he was thirteen.”

“Poor kid, what thing to do.” Gwen watched sadly as Tom decided that it was time to explain and then demonstrate the best way to stake a vampire. 

Not wanting to watch, Andy said, “That’s not even the half of it, it’s not up to me to tell you though.”

“So how are you doing?” Gwen asked, moving so that she was between him and the rest of the group. "And I don't expect you to say fine. I don't think anybody would be, not with all this."

"I will be. Once this is over, once Tom and me can just go back to living our lives, then I'll be okay." It sounding more convincing that Andy had thought it would, and he could almost believe it himself. 

"It isn't always that simple," Gwen said, taking hold of his arm. "So don't be too hard on yourself if it doesn't go back to being the same straight away. Just give it some time. It took me and Rhys a while after find out about the whole aliens being real thing."

It was probably true, but that didn't mean Andy wanted to hear it. "Alright," he replied noncommittal. "Maybe we should listen to what Tom's saying."

Gwen looked for a moment like she was going to try to push the issue, but then said, "So not like that time we missed half the DCIs briefing on crowd control arrangements and ended up on our own with a load of pissed up rugby fans?"

Andy hadn't thought about that in years. "It didn't go that badly in the end. Not if you don't count their singing."

“...lot of the vamps will just be there to bet on the fight or just because they get turned by it," Tom said as they turned back to listen. "The ones to watch'll be the ones who organise it. They tend to know how to fight. This lot probably more than most. They took that weevil thing and kept it somewhere, either that or they go out an' get a fresh one every full moon like they do with the werewolves.” Tom waited for a moment, seeing if anybody else had any questions before adding, “There's a good chance they'll have some normal humans there an' all.”

Gwen gave him a horrified look. “People go to watch this?”

Tom shook his head. “Nah. They'll have been caught by the vampires. That's how me dad became a werewolf. He were just a bloke and he got slung in with a werewolf. He were the first normal they'd reckoned they'd seen be the winner of the fight. Only he got clawed up." Tom gestured to the side of his face. "So he were a werewolf after that. So any ordinary person there'll have been caught to fight or as something for the vamps to snack on afterwards.”

“I think I prefer aliens,” Mickey said, “At least they didn't turn you into one. Well not apart from Cybermen or those slime ones, or the ones that took your skin or the ones that took out your brain and did stuff with it.” 

Working for Torchwood sounded less and less appealing the more you knew about it, Andy decided. Not that harboured any hopes or desires in that direction any more. 

Tom looked at the clock and then picked up the stake on the table and put it back in the hold all. “We should be going soon. I wanna get the first part of this done before I change and while I can still think fer me self.” 

Martha and Mickey looked at each other and then at Jack, before Martha said, “Okay, Jack what got left out on this 'we need you to help stop a few vampires' call you gave us last night, because we're definitely missing something here.” 

Tom gave Jack an irritated look. “I thought you lot said you told each other stuff? I'm a werewolf, alright. It ain't a big deal apart from tonight. Have they really not told yer anything?” 

“Only that having a doctor there handy might be useful,” Martha said, and then looking at Mickey added, “And that extra fire power was probably a plus. So Jack, tell me what's going on as I really don't want a repeat of the whole cursed death glove death thing.” 

“Hey, neither do I. He got all snappy last time about people being told about his thing,” Jack said gesturing towards Tom. “So I just thought...” 

Ianto gave them all a faintly despairing look and went to the door. Opening he said, “We can talk about it in the car.” He paused and then said, “Only we can't, can we? because we can't fit seven of us in the SUV.”

“It'd be cosy,” Jack said, with a smile that suggested he really didn't mind that at all.

“It would also mean two of us not having seatbelts and considering your driving getting here, I don't think that's a good idea,” Ianto said, not sounding like he was going to be persuaded otherwise.“As getting us there in one piece would be an advantage.” 

“I'm a great driver,” Jack said sounding a little put out by it. “Did I ever tell you about the time I drove...” 

"This isn't the one about the tank?" Mickey said, "because that...nobody would believed it. Even me and I saw it."

Did they really spend so much time bickering about things normally if they were working something with a normal member of the public, Andy wondered, or was it because they considered them part of their group that they were getting the behind the scenes version. It had been like that in the police – the face you presented to the public, calm and professional was rarely maintained when you were only amongst colleagues. The idea that there was something so relateable about how Torchwood worked, was actually more reassuring than all the techno babble and gadgets that they had brought with them. Hoping that he wasn't about to regret it, Andy said, “We can take my land rover as well if you want.” 

“Okay,” Gwen said clapping her hands together, trying to get everybody's attention and get some form of order again. “So Jack, Ianto, Martha, Mickey and Tom you're all in the SUV. Andy and me will follow up in the land rover. ”

“Why can't you go with them and I'll bring Tom?” Andy said, wondering if he sounded as paranoid as he was suddenly feeling. What if they hadn't come to help, what if they had all come to take Tom away? It was a ridiculous idea, they could have just taken him the first time if that was what they'd wanted to do.

“Because Ianto and Tom will be bringing Martha and Mickey up to speed on the situation while Jack drives. I could drive them, but then you'd be with Jack, and after last time, well...” Gwen gave him a reassuring smile. “It'll be like old times just the two of us, even if it's only for a few minutes.” 

Because reminding me of when I was in the police is really going to help, Andy thought irritably. He knew that Gwen hadn't meant it like that, and if he was honest back when he was partnered with Gwen his life hadn't really been that bad, he'd enjoyed his job. “Alright,” he said reluctantly. “But you have to the map reading.”

“No need,” Ianto said, handing Gwen what looked like a very high end sat nav. “It's already pre-programmed, and I've synced it with the SUVs tracker, so you'll be able to tell when we've arrived. It has its own locator beacon built in, so we can tell where you are as well. If you need assistance for any reason, use this.” He pointed to a switch on the side of the unit. “Your signal will change colour on our display.” 

Gwen put it in her coat pocket. “You really do think of everything, don't you?”

Ianto smiled. “I try my best.”

This was really it, Andy thought looking at them all. Jack seemed focused now, talking to Tom again about killing vampires, flirting and risqué comments left behind for the moment. Martha and Mickey, although he didn't know them at all seemed organised and more competent that Torchwood had often appeared to be. Ianto was apparently scarily efficient and could handle Jack - in more ways than one from Tom had told him about the lift. Not that he wanted to be thinking about that now, although maybe I'd be safer than the other thoughts that were running through his head.

“Right then,” Jack said, once Ianto had picked up the plans and Mickey had taken the hold all from Tom. “Time to move out.” 

It seemed as if one moment they were all there and then they were gone. Tom was gone. Andy took a shaky breath. he’d not even said goodbye. Not that it was goodbye, they’d be following them in a couple of minutes, but he should have said something. What if Tom thought he didn’t care? 

"There's somethin' I forgot," Tom called out as he dashed back inside. Stopping in front of Andy, he wrapped his arms round him and kissed him. "If you feel weird or owt like that, then you get somewhere safe and I find yer later," Tom said holding him tight. "An' if anything bad happens, not that it will, but if it did, although it won’t, right so don’t be thinking it will, then don't do anything silly. Cause you know I wouldn't want that, don't yer?"

Andy nodded, unable to speak past the lump in his throat. It was all he could do to let him go and walk out the door. 

“You okay?” Gwen asked now they were alone. 

“Yeah, I think so,” Andy said, picking up his keys from a hook near the door. “I supposed we'd better follow them.” 

“Umm Andy,” Gwen said, glancing down and then quickly back up again. "You might want to get dressed first. I meant it's only a suggestion.”

The towel had, at some point, slipped down to where it concealed nothing at all. “Oh balls,” Andy muttered, pulling it up again and hurrying into the bedroom. 

 

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N The healing faster thing is based off Nina healing quicker than expected after Herrick stabbed her.


	34. Chapter 34

Torchwood’s big rangerover thing was definitely the newest, most hi-tech car he’d ever been in, Tom decided, as he sat in the back between Martha and Mickey. Moonrise was little more than an hour away as they left the farm, and Tom could feel the first twinges of pain that would build until he transformed. For now he could ignore them, concentrate on making sure they all knew what they were getting themselves into.

It felt odd getting ready to go out hunting vampires. Part of him wanted it over and done with, was eager for it, the other and he was sure it never used to be there, was scared. Scared that things would go wrong, that whatever happened things with Andy would never go back to how they were. He knew his dad would have said he’d gone soft, but worrying about people didn’t make you less of a fighter; Annie and George had shown him that. What you could do for love was far greater than for hate. The results though could be just as devastating for those left behind.

“Are you okay?" Martha asked, when Tom had been silent for a while. “I mean you don’t get car sick or anything?”

Tom stared at her, certain now he looked every bit as stupid as he felt. “No, no, just thinking about last time I were killing vampires.”

“So you do it a lot then?” Mickey asked, apparently unfazed by the idea of fighting vampires. He'd told Tom earlier that it couldn't be any stranger than fighting aliens robots on a parallel Earth. Tom hadn't had an answer for that, he'd never a normal human who's life was weirder than his was. 

He didn't really have an answer Mickey's question now either, at least not one he wanted to give, as going out and finding vampires to stake hadn't been part of his life for what felt like a long time. Not since what happened with Mr Snow and Cutler, and with losing Annie and Eve and Alex becoming a ghost. Tom looked out the window at the nearly dark countryside. “Not any more,” he said hoping they’d leave it at that.

“Here we are,” Ianto said, a moment later before anybody could ask Tom anymore questions. He pulled the SUV off the road and parked it in a gateway just out of sight of the farm. "This is as close as we can safely get without being seen."

Jack got out of the SUV first and looked around. "Looks like were good go. We take only what we need. Ianto, have you got the weevil repellant and the stun gun?"

"As if I would have forgotten," Ianto said, holding up the objects for Jack to see. 

"Just like old times," Jack said with a grin. "Mickey and me will take the big guns, and a few of the stakes. Martha, what do you want to take?" 

"Knowing all of you a first aid kit is sensible," Martha replied, taking a small backpack out of the SUV. "Other than that I put together a few tranquilliser darts, for this." Martha took small air pistol type gun from a holster inside her coat. "These will knock out a hoix inside a minute and keep it down for about an hour, so it should take down anything they can throw at us."

"I thought we were just gonna stake the vamps and finish it?" Tom said, worried now that Torchwood might take vampires alive, that they might want to do stuff with them. As much as he didn't like vampires the idea of people keeping them locked up, looking into what they were, maybe experimenting on them or something made him uncomfortable.

"It's for the weevil and for the other werewolf, if they've got one," Martha said, putting it back into it holster. "You said they'd probably have another werewolf there, we're not only going in to rescue humans, Tom, we're going to try to help anybody the vampires took." 

"Oh right," Tom replied, trying not to think about whether she would have to use it on him before the night was out. Leaning into the SUV, he retrieved the bag of stakes from under the back seat. He was about to start handing them out when something somewhere deep inside twisted, pain sparking up his spine. Dropping the bag of stakes, Tom sagged against the side of the SUV and closed his eyes, trying to concentrate on breathing and staying on his feet. 

"What's the matter, mate?" Mickey asked, taking hold of his arm, helping him stay on his feet. "You don't look too good."

“Nothing's wrong, it's just changing hurts a bit.” Tom swallowed hard, the pain receding, but not entirely disappearing. “It'll get worse, but that's how it is. So don't worry, it ain't like I'm ill or anything, this is just how it always is."

"How much worse?" Ianto asked, sounding less than sure about having Tom with them now. 

There really wasn't point lying, they'd see it soon enough, and Tom said, "A lot. So when I end up on the floor screaming or whatever, just keep out of my way 'cause I don't wanna end up hurting any of you by mistake, and go and kill a few vampires or something. It's just how it is, you can't help me, but I'll be alright."

Even Jack looked unnerved by the bluntness of it, but it was Martha who said, “And you do this every month?”

"Every full moon," Tom corrected, as he picked up the bag of stakes again. Every month would be better, that would only be twelve times a year rather than thirteen. One less time he would have to hide from normal people or risk hurting them.

“Can you take anything for it?” Martha asked, concerned, but curious too.

“What? So I don’t change?” Tom stared at her, not quite able to comprehend what she was asking him. “You think I’d go through having to hide from everybody and feeling all my bones break every few weeks if there were a pill or something to stop doing this?”

“I mean so it doesn’t hurt as much,” Martha said, not put out in the least that he'd been annoyed. 

It was a pretty good question really, and one he didn’t have an answer to. That was the problem with being around smart people, he felt even stupider than he normally thought himself to be. “I just don’t,” he mumbled. “I dunno why. I ‘spose it’s because my dad never did.” There hadn't been the money for it, and honestly his dad would have likely seen it as weakness. 

“But they do work for you?”

Tom closed his eyes as another flash of pain spiked though him, leaving a dull, bone deep ache in its wake. "Yeah.”

“Right, then,” Martha said then got a bag out from under the back seat of the SUV. “You don’t have to take this, but this will help a bit. It shouldn’t make you drowsy.”

The not falling asleep part was good; you needed your wits sharp when you were fighting. But what if he stayed conscious through the whole transformation? Tom wondered, would he keep his own mind when he was the wolf? If he could control the wolf he could take down all the vampires by himself and keep all the rest of them safe. Even if it didn’t work like that they hadn’t lost anything. "Might as well have a go," Tom said taking them from her and taking two of the tablets inside. 

"Give them a few minutes to work," Martha said taking the bottle back. "And if it works for you, I can make sure you always have some when you need it. Nobody should have to be in pain if they have to be."

Tom nodded, and sat down to wait. It didn't work completely, as he could still feel the transformation aching beneath his skin. Only the sharpest edges were dulled and he held out little hope that as it got worse whether it would do anything at all. It would have to do, Tom thought as they got into position. Anything that helped them stop Audrey's dog fights had to be a good thing. 

“I’d better get undressed now,” Tom said as the reached the edge of the farmyard. 

"He's as bad as Jack," Mickey said, more amused than anything else. 

"Hey," Jack replied, pretending to sound offended and failing entirely. "It was only once, and it was the robot women who'd taken my clothes. And I still looked good." 

There was probably a lot more to the story, Tom decided, but there wasn't time to hear it, and in a way he was glad that there wasn't, as he really wasn't sure that it was going to end up as anything other than embarrassing. Not that tonight wasn't bad enough. Walking into a building full of vampires completely naked really wasn't something he wanted to do, so he left his underwear on. Although it was mainly because it didn’t feel right being totally naked in front of people he barely knew, especially as one of them was a lady. 

The night air was cold against his skin, but Tom knew he'd be warm enough gain soon. It never mattered how cold it was when you were fighting, you still got hot. He'd have fur to keep him warm soon enough as well, he told himself as the tried to ignore the damp chill of the grass against his knees, as he knelt with the rest of them out of the sight of the farm.

"We should go in in a minute," Tom said, when none of the rest of them had made a move to get nearer to the barn. "It's not going to be long until I change, maybe ten minutes or so. We don't want to leave it too late."

"Too late?" Mickey asked. "I thought we have a good few minutes between when the moon came up and the vampires starting to kill people."

"I mean me," Tom said, grateful that whatever Martha had given him meant he wasn't yet at the point where he was curled in a ball on the ground. “Once I’m a werewolf you all need to keep out of my way as I won’t be able to tell who’s a vampire or not. So even if it looks like it’s going wrong for me with the vampires, I’m gonna be more dangerous than them, so you've gotta keep out of my way, 'cause I don’t want Andy getting here and finding I’ve killed one of his friends because the wolf don't know who they are.”

“You can’t control it at all?” Ianto asked, sounding worried. He looked at Jack and then sighed. “You knew that, didn’t you?"

Jack shrugged, the apology barely there. "Tom is our best chance at taking them down tonight, and he wanted to do it. I don't remember you saying no to him coming along?" 

"Don't you dare make this my fault," Ianto said, anger controlled or else he'd have been shouting. "How do you expect me to help plan things if you only give me part of the information? Does Gwen know? Have you any idea how annoyed she's going to be that you didn't say anything? and don't you think I'm going to back you up on this."

"Ianto..."

"Don't, we'll talk about this later," Ianto said irritably, holding up a hand. "That is assuming we are all here later and not turned into vampires, ripped up by weevils or eaten by a werewolf." 

"I might just turn you into one," Tom said, wondering if he should add 'at least it isn't as a bad as being dead' but somehow it didn't feel right to say so. "Not that I'd want to, I mean." 

"I know," Ianto said, not angry with him. "Honestly, Jack, what did you really think was to be gained by not telling this? Really? Haven't we got to the point where we've realised secrets like don't help anybody?"

"You'd know about that." 

Ianto glared at Jack. "I am not going to dignify that with an answer." 

"I swear they only butt heads like this because it means they get to make up sex later," Martha said, took the pistol out and loaded it with one of the darts.

"Now there is something I really didn't want to know," Mickey said. "I suppose he wasn't going to have changed though, he was just the same with the Doctor, the old Doctor I mean, with the leather jacket." 

"Have they fallen out about something?" Tom asked, as the mood between Jack and Ianto seemed all to familiar too him - it was like when he and Andy had fallen out over secrets that it would have been better if they'd been out in the open.

"I don't know," Martha said. "Gwen might. Actually where have her and Andy got to? They should be here by now.” 

Ianto took his mobile out of his suit jacket and accessed the tracking program. "They've stopped about a mile from here. There doesn't seem to be anything there. It's just countryside. Do you think they might have run into trouble?"

"That might be the Landrover, there were a bit of problem with it the other week, Andy reckoned that it were something electrical," Tom said, relieved that it looked like Andy wasn’t going to be a part of tonight slaughter. Because that’s what it would be. If they were lucky there would only be dead, well deader, vampires left at the end of the night. Tom wasn't sure he believed in luck anymore, well not the good kind at least. Bad luck never seemed to be in short supply. 

"Should we wait for them?" Martha asked, looking over at the farm. There was a single figure by the door, but there was the faint sound of music and voices from inside the barn, enough to suggest that they would be heavily out numbered.

"If we wait Tom will have changed and we'll lose our advantage," Jack said taking his Webley revolver from its holster on his belt. "No, we go in. Me and Tom first, through the main door. You, Mickey and Ianto take the side door, and wait for our signal." 

"Well good luck," Martha said, giving Jack a brief hug. "And you too Tom."

Once Martha, Mickey and Ianto had disappeared into the darkness at the side of the barn, Jack nodded towards the main door, and with an answering nod, Tom followed him. 

"I'll take the vampire on the door," Tom said, quietly as they kept low using the wall to the edge of the barn as cover. Jack nodded and let him move ahead of him. 

It was a relatively young vampire, probably dead for less than two years, Tom thought as he put one hand on its shoulder and the other over its mouth and twisted.   
The vampire's neck snapped with a crack that for a moment Tom wondered if had been loud enough to alert those inside to their presence. It hadn't and he let the vampire slump to the ground before staking it. The vampire died without a sound; his mouth open in a silent scream as he turned to dust and floated away on the night breeze blowing down from the hills rising steeply to the west of the farm. 

"Remind me never to piss you off," Jack said as he join him at the door. "At least Ianto will be pleased."

"About what?" Tom pressed an ear to the door, trying to gauge how many were inside. The scent of vampire and weevil was too strong to be an accurate measure this close up. 

"Vampires die tidily. It'll be a nice easy clean up. Kill them all and set fire to the barn. No awkward bodies to dispose of." Jack smiled humourlessly in the darkness. "He'll get to keep the illegal rave's tragic electrical fire accident for another day."

Tom decided it probably wasn't a good idea to ask just how many bodies Ianto normally had to dispose of: He doubted he'd have liked the answer. 

"Time to make an entrance," Jack said and then kicking open the door stepped inside.

The barn was as Tom remembered it from the previous month: The circus atmosphere, the loud music, the tiered seating full of vampires eager to see blood spilt, and Audrey on the stage working the crowd, as if they needed any encouragement to be baying for blood. While in the ring and cages were a couple of terrified looking people, a middle aged woman and young man still in his teens, and in the furthest cage was the weevil, snarling and beating again the bars in an attempt to reach what it clearly thought of as food. 

A hush fell over the barn as all the vampires turned to look at them. Too angry to be afraid, Tom walked forwards, stopping just in front of the stage, where Audrey stood in her ring master get up once more. 

"It's a little lost puppy. Come back for more, have you?" Audrey said, jumping down from the stage and walking over to them. "And you brought a snack, how good of you. Or is he to be a replacement for Bill? He'll be better looking at least."

"Don't you ever get tired of being horrible to people?" Tom said, tightening his grip on his stake.

Audrey laughed, cruel and mocking. "You're a person now are you?" She looked at Jack. "Well you're better looking than I thought you'd be, I mean why'd you want a dog like that? Or do you get something out of?" She circled round them. "Do you tell him to fetch and beg and he does it? Do you like to order him around? Is that it? Does he like it? He seems too snappy for me."

"Who says I don't like snappy?" Jack replied with a grin.

"Jack is not my boyfriend," Tom said angrily, uncertain of who he was actually more irritated by at that particular moment. "And he's not a snack or a replacement. We've come to stop you."

"The two of you are going to stop all of us?" Audrey shook her head and laughed. "I don't know what he'd told you, good looking," she said to Jack, looking at the gun he'd drawn. "But that's not going to help. Tonight both of you are going to die." 

"Plenty have tried," Jack said carelessly, amused rather than worried. 

Audrey stalked round behind Jack and trailed a hand down his cheek. "It's a waste really, you'd have made such a pretty servant, I'd have got you a uniform and everything," she said as in one lightning fast move she broke his neck and Jack dropped to the floor. 

"No!" Tom made a dive for her, wanting to wipe the cold look of triumph off her face. 

"Bad dog, sit." Audrey lashed out with her ring masters whip, hitting him across the face. "Has nobody taught you any manners?"

Eyes watering from the stinging blow, Tom reeled back, tasting blood in his mouth from where it had caught his lip. Around him the vampires in the crowd laughed and jeered. 

"Ben, Huey, get this dog in the cage before he transforms," she called out, heading back to the stage. "If he won't go, well, you know what to do." 

"Like I said: Tried."

Audrey spun back round, her eyes widened as Jack got back to his feet. "What are you?"

Jack moved his head from side to side, the bones making a cracking and popping noise. "One of a kind." 

What Jack was Tom had no idea, he was just glad that Jack was on their side. There was no time to think about it though, as the the rest of the vampires, seeing that things were about to go very badly wrong for them, decided to fight back. 

This was it, Tom thought, as he saw Martha, Mickey and Ianto run in through the side door of the barn heading for the cages. It might have been a while since he had last fought, but every muscle remembered, no thought was required as he tripped one vampire and drove the stake into it heart, while already turning to punch another and drive it back, buying him the time to pull the stake free. 

There was a wild, fierce joy in it, the wolf so close to the surface now, revelling in the feel of his fist connecting with a vampire's face, with the heat of blood spattering onto his skin. The world narrowed to one of movement and death. Duck, roll, drive the stake in hard and clean, and then wrench it loose, ready for the next kill.

Tom could feel his teeth lengthening, his jaw elongating to accommodate them as he fought, and when he looked down at his hands the nails had already changed. Claws replaced them as thick, wiry hair sprouted across the back of his hands. He couldn't hold the stake anymore, but there was a terrible satisfaction in the look of fear the vampire gave him as lashed out with his claws, bloody gouges opening up on the vampire's shirt.

He'd never managed it before, he'd seen his dad do it though and there was a sense of pride that he'd had finally done it too. With a snarl he grabbed another fleeing vampire by the neck and slammed it hard against the side of one of the cages, the vampires's glasses, an affectation, nothing more, fell from its face. 

The glass glinted in the bright lights from the stage, and Tom looked down to see reflected in the broken lenses is own face. There was nothing human left in fierce yellow eyes and snarling jaws that stared back at him. Part of him was appalled, the other celebrated the raw power and capacity for destruction contain in the feral gaze. 

A second later searing pain cut through the dulling effects of what Martha had given him, driving Tom to his knees. He gasped, trying to fight it, but it built until awareness finally tumbled away, and the wolf's desire to fight, to bite and rend and kill, and its lust for blood eclipsed everything else.

With a snarl of triumph that it was free at last, the werewolf rose to its feet and launched itself at the nearest vampire, teeth bared and ready for the kill.

 

TBC


	35. Chapter 35

Why had he said he’d go? Why had he said he’d drive? Sitting in the Landrover, Andy could feel his heart beating faster, his hands slick with sweat on the steering wheel. They’d not even reached the end of the track yet and he already wanted to turn around, drive back to the farm and lock himself in.

"Are you alright?" Gwen asked once they'd reached the main road. "You look like you're going to throw up or something."

He gripped the steering wheel tighter. Maybe if Gwen and him couldn't see that his hands were shaking then it wouldn't be true. "I'm fine."

Gwen have him her 'I so don't believe you look' and said, "If you're not feeling up to it, say. Really, I'm not going to be mad at you. Why don't we stop for a minute? I could drive for a while, if you want?"

He took a deep breath hoping that it would help, but it sound close to a sob to his own ears, and when he spoke he couldn't keep the tremor from his voice. "I'm fine, really. I'm fine." 

"You're not. Andy, will you just stop the car for a minute?"

"Fine. Great, have it your way. I'm no use for anything." Andy pulled the landrover over to the side of the road with a screech of tires and he slammed on the breaks. "Jack bloody Harkness was right, I should just give up, shouldn't I? I'm no use to anybody."

"I didn't say that. I don't think that either," Gwen said, unfastening her seatbelt and leaning over to him. "I'm worried about you."

The inside of the landrover seemed stifling and after a couple of attempts Andy freed himself from his seat belt and opened the door. The air outside was damp and thick with the smell of freshly cut grass. Closing his eyes he tried to breathe, to slow his heart that felt like it was trying to beat out of his chest. It didn't help. He had to get away. Maybe if he had a few minutes to calm down he could do it. Who was he kidding? he thought bitterly, certainly not himself, and if he couldn't fool himself he was never going to fool Gwen. She would see how useless he was. "I can't do it," Andy said weakly, all but falling out of the landrover in his haste to get somewhere, anywhere else, even it it was only for a moment.

"What can't you do?" Gwen asked, following him out. "Andy? What's wrong?"

"This. The fight." Andy leant against a tree, legs feeling weak. "I don't know. Everything maybe."

"It's alright to be scared," Gwen said, putting a hand on his arm. "But you'll be alright. You’re stronger than you think. When it comes down to it, you’ll do it. I know you." 

“No, you don’t, not any more. Why the hell do you think police got rid of me?" Andy snapped pulling away from her. “I bloody well lost the plot on duty didn't I? Pushed DCI Blanchard over. Though I was back on that housing estate with them taking the kids. I lost it, Gwen and I'm scared as hell it’ll happen again. That maybe I won't come back from it, that...that...oh I don't know. I don't know what to do any more.”

“I had no idea,” Gwen said sad and shocked. “Oh Andy, Why didn't you come and talk to me? You shouldn't have gone through that alone.”

“You'd had it worse that me, you'd lost Ianto, your job as far as I knew and Ceri were just a couple of weeks old. I felt like a sodding idiot. Loads of people have seen worse than that and just got on with it. Tom had seen worse as a kid and he's fine. And I'm...” Andy took a shaky breath, then covered his face with his hands. “I'm a failure, Gwen, I'm pathetic. I can't even help Tom when he needs me there. I don't deserve him.”

“You listen to me." Gwen lifted Andy's hands from his face. "I don't think I deserve Rhys a lot of the time. I probably don't if I'm honest. He's put up with so much shit because of what I do, because of Torchwood. He knows I'd let him go if that's what he wanted, but he's stuck by me, no matter what. And do you know what?”

He could barely look at her, scared to be caught up in her certainty as he was sure it would come crashing down around him later, that he'd be worse off in the end for believing that he was worth anything. “What?”

“I see the same thing there in you and Tom. You love each other. You stayed with Tom when he turned out to be werewolf for Christ's sake, I'm not even sure I'd manage that even for Rhys.” Gwen put an arms around him holding him tight. “You always cared so much for everybody. You wanted to help everyone.” 

"So did you," Andy replied, wondering where the two young coppers straight out of training college had gone in the ten years since their first day on the beat. Sometimes it felt a lifetime ago, and at other it seemed like no time at all, that he'd not had enough time to learn anything of use at all. "But I was happy just making my patch safe. You? you always wanted to save the world." 

"So we both did what we set out to then," Gwen said, trying to sound upbeat, but not entirely succeeding. 

"If you want to go back home you can, and I'll stay with you and try to get in contact with Ianto and find out what is going on. Or we can go to Pen Mawr Farm and I'll go in and you can wait outside ready to drive us to wherever we need to go." Gwen paused for a moment and then continued, "Or if you feel you'll be alright doing it, you can come in with me. I don't think they'll have waited for us, but I carry a spare gun these days. You can use it if you want."

"I've never fired one," Andy said, hoping that she wouldn't insist. "I've never wanted to. I never even went on the taser training course." 

"Maybe not then," Gwen replied. "It's not for everybody, and I'd hate you to have an accident with it because I didn't have time to show you how to use it properly." She paused at the drivers door of the landrover. "So am I driving you home or are we going to fight some vampires?"

"Fight vampires." Andy shook his head, laughter bubbling up, because it was probably that or cry. "Why are our lives so weird?"

"I don't know," Gwen said getting in and moving the seat forward. "But I suppose somebody's has to be. And I guess I'd rather it was mine than somebody elses. That I have to do it so most people don't have to have this stuff in their lives." She turned to look at him and smiled sadly. "It was why I tried to keep you out of Torchwood. I wanted to keep you safe."

It was hard not to believe that she was just saying it to get him to get back into the landrover with the minimum of fuss. Gwen was nice to people, of course she wouldn't tell him that it was because she'd known all along that he couldn't handle it. That she knew, like everybody else did he was no good for anything. "Thank you," Andy said, the words nearly sticking in his throat. 

Getting back into the landrover was an effort, but Andy forced himself to do it, as the alternative, that they wasted time here and that maybe something awful would happen because they weren't there was the thing that finally drove him back into his seat. 

While Gwen drove, Andy closed his eyes and tried follow some of the self help information that he'd been given when they'd still thought there was a chance that he'd remain on the force in some capacity. It wasn't as effective as he'd have liked it to be, but him not actually practicing any of the visualisation stuff apart from when he felt like he was breaking probably did limit its usefulness. Yet another thing that was his own stupid fault, Andy thought bitterly. 

He looked out of the window at the full moon that hung bright and round over the steeply rising hills and moorland. He could do it. If he could find Tom, if he could make sure he was alright, them everything would be fine again. As long as he had Tom things would be okay in the end, because Tom had enough enthusiasm, enough hope and enough certainty for the future that it had to be, he wouldn't let anything come between him and the normal life he wanted for them both. 

 

The attack on the vampires was already well underway as Gwen drove up the farm track past where the Torchwood SUV was parked. Getting out of the landrover was an effort, not turning and running as soon as he did was as well. It was only the thought that Tom was in there somewhere, fighting for his life perhaps amidst the smoke and shouting, that pulled him forward, following Gwen to the door.

Before Gwen could open it it flew open, a vampire, a stake in its chest tumbled onto the ground, crumbling to dust as it did so. Mickey retrieved the stake and then smiled at Gwen. "Took your time getting here. Got lost?" He took a spare stake from where it was pushed through his belt and held it out to her.

"Thought I give somebody else a chance," Gwen said, accepting it. "Is it really just as simple as stick it in their heart and whoomph you've got a pile of vampire dust?"

"Seems to be. Well as long as you can get the pointy end in them before they smack you one. They don't half hit hard." He looked back over his shoulder into the barn. “I’d better get back to it.”

“Keep safe,” Gwen said although he was already too far away to hear. Turning to Andy she said, "I'm going in. Are you waiting here or coming with me?" 

Stop asking me, Andy thought, I don't know. It wouldn't do as an answer though, so after a moment he said, "I'm probably safer with you than out here on my own." 

"There is that," Gwen said, stowing the stake through her belt and drawing her gun instead. "Do you think you'll be able to fight? I've got another gun if you want it or you can have the stake."

Andy looked around. Jack had staked one of the vampires he'd been fighting with, while Mickey had got hold of another, and Martha was checking on the two bodies in the arena. There was no way either of them could be alive, he thought. The first, a young man, lay in a corner, his clothing ripped and bloody and part of his face was clawed away, while the other, a middle aged woman was naked, her greying hair now matted with red from where her throat had been torn open. 

Andy turned away, the scene seeming to spin around him. There was too much noise, the smell of blood was so strong even to his less than impressive human senses and he wondered how Tom was coping with it or whether as the werewolf he liked it. There was terrifying thought. "I don't know," he said, not sure if he was talking to Gwen or to himself.

Trying to find something to distract him from the carnage in the arena he looked round until he spotted the final member of the Torchwood team. Ianto was leaning against one of the cages, a stake held loosely in one hand, the other pressed against chest. "Is he alright?" Andy asked, worried that he was hurt. 

Gwen looked over to Ianto and he gave her an exhausted nod. 

“He will be," Gwen replied. "You know how we all thought he was dead, he nearly did die you know. An old friend of Jack's took him to another planet in the future to get new lungs. It's complicated. He's okay though, he just get tired a bit faster than he used to do."

"Oh right," Andy replied. Complicated really didn't cover even a bit of what Gwen had just said. Unbelievably strange and downright preposterous probably didn't either, but he decided that what he should take away from it was that somehow against the odds something wonderful and amazing had happened. 

"I'll just check to make sure, find out what needs doing, okay?" she said. "It looks like it's winding down, but you can never be sure with these kind of things. You can think its all over and then 'bang!' it really is for someone." 

There was definitely something more to than, but before Andy had the chance to ask what Gwen had already moved away. He was about to follow her when he heard a snarl, and he turned to see what looked like the creature from just about every werewolf movie ever made, leap down from the end of the tiered of seating and onto the stage. There was an answering growl and from where it had been hidden behind the tattered stage curtain a weevil appeared, its wrinkled face smeared with blood that almost certainly wasn't its own. 

The partial transformation he'd seen in their living room a few months before had nothing on this. Nothing human was left. He took half a step forward and hand reaching out, although he barely knew what he was doing. "Tom." 

The werewolf turned and looked at him, but yellow eyes showed no recognition, just a hunger and fierce . The weevil, seeing its chance, ran in, claws slashing wildly. The werewolf leaped back from the first attack, its great jaws snapping shut just short of the weevil's out stretched arm. Ducking in low for its next attack, the weevil raked one set of claws across the werewolf's chest, while the other ripped across its side. 

The werewolf howled, staggered and then fell from the edge of the stage, disappearing from view. Andy stood locked in place, unable to tear his eyes from where the weevil raised its head in a shrill scream of triumph. 

One second. Two. Three. Andy watched, chest aching, breath caught, as he expected any moment the werewolf to leap back up on the stage and finish the weevil. His feet moved almost automatically, taking him to where he could see around the stage. Tom, still a werewolf, lay on the ground, his shaggy chest heaving erratically, his eyes closed, while the pool of blood around him grew slowly larger.

"No!" Andy ran forward. "Leave him alone!" 

The weevil snarled at him, but continued to advance, claws dripping red as it moved in for the kill. 

Grabbing a shoe that was lying on the floor, lost by a vampire its haste to escape the slaughter, Andy threw it as hard as he could at the weevil's head. "Hey, You. Yes, you. Why don't you fight somebody who can fight back?" Quite what he'd do if it did actually take up his offer Andy wasn't sure, but he had to do something. Picking up a metal bar that had once been used to bar one of cages, Andy ran forwards, forcing the weevil to face him. The metal connected with the weevil's shoulder with enough force that Andy thought for a moment that he'd drop it, the bar vibrating in his hands. It wasn't enough to deter the weevil and it gave a howl of pain and rage and lashed out at him, claws ripping through his shirt sleeve. Andy was already swinging the bar again, this time it struck the weevil's face with teeth shattering force, and it dropped to the ground. 

It snarled wetly, a bubbling sound accompanying the feral noise. It almost sounded to Andy as it was laughing, mocking him for his pathetic attempt at keeping Tom safe. He'd prove it wrong. Prove everybody wrong, his mother, his brother, all those in the police who he'd once thought were his friends. Andy swung the bar again, bringing it down as hard as he could on the weevil's head. He'd show them. He struck again. He wasn't a failure, he wasn't weak, he wasn't useless. 

His arms ached and his hands were spattered with blood, and a quick glance at the weevil left him in no doubt that it wouldn't be fighting again. The bar dropped from his shaking fingers, and he fell to his knees, the overwhelming smell of blood and death making him retch. 

Shaking, Andy got unsteadily to his feet. Tom still lay on the ground, the only change apparently having been to the size of the blood puddle around him, which was larger than before. "Tom!" He stumbled forwards, trying to get to him when he was grabbed about the waist. 

“Stop, he’s still alive. The other werewolf the vampires had caught turned back to a person right after dying," Ianto said, trying to stop Andy from struggling out of his grip. 

Surely Tom being alive was even more reason that he should get there quickly? Andy thought trying to break away from the arms that were wrapped tightly about him. He had to get to Tom and keep him alive. “I’ve got to…”

“He won’t know who you are.” Ianto held him tighter, although his breathing was starting to wheeze with the effort. “He could kill you and not realise what he’s done until it’s too late. Do you want him to have to live with that?”

It was a terrible, horrible truth and Andy went still, mind and heart warring about what he should do next. 

Ianto risked loosening his hold on him, so that he could breathe a little easier. “Let Martha put him to sleep. It will be..."

The matter of fact coldness of it, Andy decided hurt the worst. That after all that Tom had done for them all they could see was an animal, not the kind and loving man who'd been willing to place his own life in danger to protect others . He looked around to see Martha leave the bodies in the arena and move towards Tom. "No!" Andy elbowed Ianto hard in the ribs, breaking his grip on his. "He's not an animal to be put down!" 

"What? No, I'm sorry. Bad choice of words," Ianto said, grabbing him again and all but rugby tackling him to the floor. Coughing and wheezing he pinned Andy down, He said,"I meant anaesthetic. So she can treat him safely. She's a doctor. She'll do all she can. I promise. Nobody is dying tonight." 

Andy was sure he should be apologising for thinking the worst, but nothing came out but a ragged sob and rush of tears that had been threatening since he'd left the house. Tom could be dying for all he knew and he couldn’t go to him. The stench of blood and worse the knowledge of where it came from made him gag. He'd just killed a weevil. Was that murder, even if it wasn't human? 

"It's okay," Ianto said, still sounding a little breathless, but otherwise appearing to be alright. "I should have been a bit more careful with what I said. I'm the one who should be sorry." 

Andy wiped his eyes and sniffed wetly. He felt wrung out and shivery, and there was the distinct possibility of breaking down again. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" 

"I'm fine," Ianto replied, managing a bit of a smile. He changed his grip so that he was holding him rather than pinning him down. "I've had worse, believe me. Are you going to be alright?"

"I'm not sure what alright is anymore," Andy replied, surprised that he'd not claimed to be fine. Whether it was a good thing or not he wasn't sure. 

"It gets better," Ianto said. "I've been there, where you can't see an end to it, were it fills up everything, where it hurts just to be alive, and remembering how you use to be feels like its ripping you apart. It doesn't completely go away, but it gets better. In the end it gets better." 

Whatever he'd expected him to say, it wasn't that. Although with the sort crap that Torchwood seemed to get involved in it probably wasn't all that surprising. "I know," Andy replied, finding that he couldn't look at him. "Remembering it, it's not easy." He tried to swallow the lump in his throat, but he was still half choked when he said, "Thank you." 

Ianto nodded and then said, "Martha's checking on him now. Do you want to go and see how he's doing?" 

Looking around Andy could see the fight was pretty much over. A few of the vampires might have managed to reach the door to flee into the night, but nobody seemed to have the will to chase them down. Jack, Gwen and Mickey were making a sweep of the barn, checking to make sure that there were no vampires lurking in the shadows. 

There was no way his outburst could have gone unnoticed, but obviously to Torchwood's way of thinking it didn't warrent any form of action. Or at least not immediate action. What Jack would have to say to him later about the Weevil and about scuffling with Ianto he didn't know. He supposed he'd deal with it, or more likely not, when and if it happened.

"How much of that is yours?" Ianto asked as they helped each other to their feet.

"I don't know, not much, maybe none of it," Andy replied, not wanting to look at the blood that spattered him. He felt a little faint and shivery, but that could easily be down to shock as injury, he told himself. He'd be fine until Martha had made sure Tom was going to be alright. 

"He'll be okay. I know it's hard, but please don't worry," Martha said, standing back up as he approached and taking off her gloves. "He's lost a fair amount of blood, but werewolves seem to either be able to make more really quickly or can function with a lot less than I would think they'd need. Either way his pulse seems fine. He's just asleep right now. Once he's changed back he'll probably be mostly healed up. That's how it works as far as I understand it." She looked at the rest of them. "Right time for the rest of you. Jack, I know you okay, so could you make sure Ianto sits down and actually rests for a bit. We should be able to organise things ourselves for a few minutes without it being a complete disaster."

Ianto looked like he was about to protest, but Jack shook his head. Walking over to him, Jack whispered something in his ear, his thumb tracing a faint scar on Ianto cheek. Catching hold of Jack's hand, he lowered it and then kissed him. 

Martha smiled and then looked away, satisfied that Jack and Ianto were looking out for each other. Turning to Mickey, she said, "I saw you get thrown into things a couple of times, anything I should know about?"

"A few bruises," he replied, stretching then wincing a bit. "I can wait."

"You'd better be telling the truth or you are in so much trouble when we get home. What about you, Gwen?" 

Gwen nodded. "All fine here. Tired, who knew staking vampires was so much hard work?"

"So that just leaves you," Martha said, turning back to Andy. "How's your arm?"

"Arm?" Andy replied, the room seeming to spin a little as he tried to focus on her. "It's here. I...oh" He looked down at his left arm to see his shirt sleeve was ripped and bloody. The scratches beneath suddenly began to throb, although Andy was sort of aware that they had been all along, it was just that now the adrenaline rush was wearing off he was really beginning to feel it. "I'm okay," he said. "I don't think it too bad. I can wait."

"Right, time to sit down before you fall down," Martha said, indicating one end of the front row of seating that wasn't quite as badly damaged as the rest. "No arguments. I know you want me to help Tom, but I've done all I can until he changes back. And I want him out of here and back to your place. Actually I'd prefer him to be seem in a hospital, but taking a werewolf into A&E probably wouldn't be the best plan." 

"Tom wouldn't want to go anyway," Andy replied, as she lead him over to the seats. "He doesn't like hospitals. And if it's alright with you, I really don't want to go either." 

"Let me have a look at that arm and then I'll decide."

It took about twenty minutes of painful poking, prodding and cleaning with antiseptic which Andy was sure hurt worse than the initial injury before Martha was satisfied that it was clean enough to bandage. The scratches hadn't been all that deep, but the edges were ragged, and Martha had told him apologetically that they would scar. If that was the only lasting reminder of tonight, Andy decided he could live with it. 

It took a further hour for Jack to decide they were able to leave. The two bodies and the dead weevil had been placed in the back of his landrover, despite his protests that he really didn't want them there. It had only been Gwen pointing out that the other option was to put Tom in the back, and having an injured werewolf who'd probably be very annoyed when he woke up, and who might take a chunk out of whoever was driving, that convinced him to let them put Tom in the back of the SUV. 

Cold, sore and so exhausted that he wasn't sure how he was still his feet, Andy got into the SUV. That had been the one condition he'd insisted on, that if Tom was in the SUV so would he, as he want to be near Tom on the drive back, even if he wasn't in a state where he could talk to him yet. 

"You'll be home soon," Martha said getting in beside him. "It's been a rough night, so don't be too hard on yourself. Take it easy for a while."

Andy nodded, and then curled up in his seat as much as he could. Home was good. Home with Tom was better. The engine rumbled into life, and Jack dais simething that made Martha laugh and Ianto make an indignant noise. Closing his eyes, Andy tried to rest and not give into the thoughts, the ones that told him all the many ways everything could still go horribly wrong.


	36. Chapter 36

Waking up hurt, Tom decided as he tried to roll over. It must have been a rough fight if he was feeling this sore after changing back. The fact that he was in his and Andy's bed back at the farm had to be good sign, he decided as he tried to sit up. That hurt more than rolling over, and the sharp pain in his side let him know there were at least a few stitches under the bandage that had been wrapped carefully about him. They'd heal quickly enough, things like that always did. There'd be a few more scars, but he was fairly sure that Andy wouldn't mind. He was good like that..

Andy. Tom closed his eyes again. He must have been in a right old mess before he'd changed back to still be this clawed up. How much had Andy seen? Had he been there while he'd been stitched up? He didn't think it would have done him much good to see it, but he'd never have waited out of the way. 

Whatever else had happened they must have won, Tom told himself as he carefully moved himself to the edge of the bed. If the vampires had won there'd have been no going home, getting patched and being put safely to bed. You'd be dead and if you were lucky buried, rather than left to rot out in a ditch. Not that that meant everything was fine, winning wasn't the same as everybody living; he'd lost far to many people to think otherwise. 

There were people talking in the living room. He could hear Jack's voice, loud and American and Gwen's, Welsh and similar to Andy's. She sounded absolutely knackered, but not particularly upset about anything. That they were just sitting around chatting had to be a good sign, Tom told himself. He'd have expected them to sound sad if they'd lost anybody. 

What he needed to do was get up and find Andy, he decided. Once he was sure Andy was okay he'd go back to bed. Find Andy and a have cup of tea, then he'd be okay. Tom stood up and swayed on his feet. His head swam for a moment and he wondered just how much blood he'd lost. There's been some close fights in the past, ones where his dad had had to patch him up afterwards or the other way around. It wasn't nice, but as his dad had said, pain lets you know you're still alive, and being alive after a fight was definitely a good thing. 

If I take it slow I'll be fine, he told himself as he walked to the door and opened it nearly into Andy's face. Any joy at seeing Andy was squashed as he saw the bandage around Andy's arm. Faint scratches emerged from one side of it. Claw marks. He'd know them anywhere. He'd done that, he must have. Had he done it after he was hurt? Had Andy been trying to help him? This was why his dad had kept them away from people. It wasn't to keep them safe, it was to keep ordinary people from becoming things like them. Andy would try to be nice about it, but he shouldn't have to be, he shouldn't...

"Tom?" Andy asked, catching hold of him. 

Tom closed his eyes. He didn't want to cry, not here with everybody staring at him, not when he was the one who'd done the thing that he'd sworn he'd never do. Better a vampire had got me, than this. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean...When you've got the wolf on you don't know...”

"What!" Andy looked down at the bandage, then back at Tom. “No, no it was the weevil. Not..." 

Tom didn't wait to hear any more and pulled Andy into hug. The stitches in his side hurt worse than before, but for the moment he didn't care. “I thought I'd turned you into a thing like me.”

“You're not a thing,” Andy said, sounding choked up and rather muffled from where his face was against Tom's hair. "Don't ever say that. Even if you had, if you were safe, I wouldn't care. I'd be scared, but if I've got you I could do it. I could do anything." 

Tom nodded. There was so much he thought he should say, but no words would come. He nodded again, slower this time, feeling a little light-headed from the movement. Leaning against Andy, he looked around. Ianto was next to Jack on the sofa, leaning against him and generally looking exhausted. While Martha, Mickey and Gwen were at the table where they had been talking and drinking coffee. Now they were all looking at them.

"How did it go?" Tom asked, hoping that they would stop soon. 

“The vampires are gone and so is the weevil. We're all fine. Jack's Jack, Mickey’s got a couple of bruises, Ianto is exhausted and I had a close encounter of the weevil kind...” Andy stopped, voice unsteady. He took a shaky breath and held Tom a little tighter. “But you got hurt worse than any of us. I thought...”

“Don't be daft. Takes more than that to get rid of me," Tom said, not wanting to hear any more. Sometimes you didn't want to know how close it had been, being alive at the end of it was all you needed to know. 

“I never want to be rid of you,” Andy said, taking Tom's hand and holding it tight. "Never." 

"How you feeling?” Martha asked, walking over to them. "Although I suspect that is a silly question."

“Sore.” Tom admitted, then after trying to turn towards her, "Feels like I got hit with brick. A whole wall full of bricks.” 

"That's to be expected," she replied. "I want to ask you a few questions about how you're feeling and check that you've not pulled any stitches getting up. I would say that you'd know about it if you had, but knowing what you said about changing I'm not sure you see pain quite how most people do." 

"Here?" Tom said, not sure he wanted Andy to have to see what was under the bandages.

"I was thinking the bedroom," Martha said, "But if you really want to stay here, I can do it here."

Tom felt Andy's grip on his hand tighten, so he said, "I don't really wanna do it at all."

"It's alright," Andy said, not looking like he wanted Tom to go anywhere at all. "It needs to be done." 

"I won't keep him long, I promise," Martha said, moving over to the bedroom door and opening it to let Tom in. 

It felt a bit weird letting Martha see him in nothing more than his pants and in a bedroom, but she was a doctor like Nina had been and all the prodding and poking was strictly professional. Nina had always been good to him, even when he'd been clueless and had tried to ask her out when George had been there. He missed them. George, Annie and Nina and little Eve. They'd been like family. The first proper family he'd had. He wiped his eyes, feeling a bit cold and shivery again.

"Are you okay?" Martha asked, taking off her gloves. 

Tom rubbed a hand across his eyes again. "Yeah, just a bit sore." 

"There are other ways of not being okay." She sat down next to him on the bed. "I know you know what I mean. Its been a difficult few weeks for you and nobody expects you to be fine with it all. It's alright to ask for help if you need it."

"I know it is, but I'll be okay. I always am," Tom said, not sure why he felt the need to explain. "I think it's because I don't remember any of the stuff that happened while I'm a werewolf. That's the only sort of good bit about it, I mean unless you think you did something horrible and you don't know for sure. But most of the time the not knowing it for the best."

"Memory is a funny thing," Martha said, something sad and brittle under the professional tone. "Just because nobody else remembers doesn't mean it didn't happen."

Tom wasn't sure how that worked being as he was the one who didn't remember and everybody else did. Well apart from the vampires they'd killed, they didn't remember anything on account of being dead. Deader.

She stood up and smiled at him. "You should still take it easy for a while. If you been a regular person, you'd be in hospital getting blood and fluids, plus a whole of load of antibiotics and pain killers. As it is you'll have produce more blood naturally, so you will tired and a little lightheaded if you push yourself too hard."

That didn't sound good at all. He'd been hoping to get on with clearing branches and dead wood that had fallen in the wood at the back of the farmhouse. "How long for?" 

"Not as long as if you were a regular person," Martha replied. "I'm not saying to have to stay in bed, but going by how you healed before I'd say nothing strenuous for at least two weeks. I'll do what I did before and get a prescription up for antibiotics. Weevils live in sewers and I don't want to think about the kind of stuff that's under their nails." She stopped and looked around for a moment and then handed him a shirt to put on, then continued, "And because I know you'll heal up quicker than an average person I've used dissolving stitches, I didn't think you'd want to have to arrange getting them removed."

"Thanks," Tom said, grateful to have something to wear. Admittedly it was Andy's and the sleeves were too long, but not having to pull it over his head was a definite plus. "I didn't know they did ones like that. Me dad used to use what he could get, said fishin' line or superglue were best. It weren't easy to nick the proper stuff."

The look Martha gave him suggested that she didn't think that his dad's methods had been great. Maybe it hadn't been, it had always hurt like hell, but it was all they'd had and it had worked. Tom sighed and tried to concentrate on doing up the buttons. Sometimes it was easier to say nothing of his past, it was just too odd for people to understand. He'd tried a bit with Allison, but she'd felt sorry for him and that was before he'd even told her the half of it. The pity for what she felt he had lost and heavily implied but never stated sense that his dad should have done better, had been worse than if she'd not wanted to know. He couldn't be angry with her for it, it was who she was, she cared, she wanted what was best for everybody and that in the end was why they would never had worked together. Sooner or later she would have lost that living the life he did, and the thought of that had always been worse than the idea of her living her life without him. 

If he was honest Andy probably didn't understand his old life any better than Allison had, but what he did understand, thought his own bitter experiences, was that life made you who you were and that if the horrible stuff didn't happen, then you'd be a different person. 

 

Andy had retreated to the kitchen by the time he'd got the shirt done up and carefully made his way back to the living room. He was sitting in a corner by the range looking lost in thought. That was never a good sign, Tom knew. He'd sort of expected it to happen though, it had been a rough month and last night was a bit much for anybody. What Andy needed it to be back to being just the two of them, Tom decided, where they could shut out the world and have a bit of peace and quiet. 

It probably wasn't considered polite to tell the people who'd helped you kill vampires and who'd patched you and your boyfriend up afterwards it was time to go, but it would have to be said at some point. They had at least an hours drive ahead of them as well to get home, Tom reasoned, so they were probably only still there because they'd wanted to make sure things were okay before leaving. They probably wanted to get home to bed as much as he did.

"Well if we're all done I think it's about time we hit the road," Jack said getting up. "I'll get us back to Cardiff in no time." 

"I'd rather take a little longer and not hit anything," Ianto said, letting Jack help him up from the sofa. Tom didn't miss the look that past between them as they noticed Gwen looking slightly concerned. 

"Hey, I'm a great driver," Jack said with a ridiculous fake pout. "Once you've ridden Jack there's no going back."

"I think you're missing a 'with' there," Gwen said. 

"That too," Jack said with a grin. "Everything with me is an experience." 

"So says the fearless leader of the innuendo squad," Mickey said, with a laugh. "I swear you get worse, Jack."

Ianto looked relieved that everybody was laughing and joking rather than asking if he was okay.

"I'd better be getting home too," Gwen said, "Rhys will want to get off to work in a few hours, and I can't keep dropping Ceri round at my Mum's at short notice."

Going over to Tom, Gwen gave him a hug. "Now you take care of yourself and if you need any help you know you can call. You've been the best thing that's happened to Andy in a long time. And I want to know both of you are okay, so don't just phone if something's wrong." 

Tom nodded, not entirely sure what to say. Was this what it was like to have lots of friends? That they expected you to call them and stuff? It was nice, but a bit worrying too. What if he forgot to call? He didn't want people to worry about him when he was fine. 

"Wait," Andy said getting up getting between everybody and the door. "There's something I need to say, and I hope it will the answer will be yes. Because what you said Gwen, it's right. He is the best thing that has ever happened to me and tonight, with how close it was with the weevil it made me realise that it could be me who is the one who goes first."

"Don't start thinking like that," Gwen said, looking worried. "Its been a long night. Things will look better after you've had a rest."

"But I'm not, for the first time in ages I'm not. I'm thinking about the future. Don't you see? I need to do this now before I do something really, really stupid like talk myself out of it, or make a will or something or make him a business partner so he gets half of this place no matter what happens to me."

"Whatever it is, we can talk about it," Tom said getting up from the sofa. It wasn't quite as bad getting up from the bed had been, but it was a close run thing. "Just let them go home and it'll be you an' me. It'll all be okay."

"Tom, just listen for a minute, please," Andy said, sounding frustrated. "And everybody else stop worrying about me. I'm alright, well mostly I think, at least as much as I ever am, but I know what I'm doing." Going over to Tom, he knelt down in front of him. "I didn't think I'd be doing this today, so I've not got a proper speech or anything. But that's probably for the best. So I'll just say it. Tom, we've been together for nearly a year, and we've been through a lot in that time. You've had to put up with so much from me that I don't know why you've stayed sometimes. But I love you and want you in my life for as long as that may be, and I think...I really hope you feel the same. So, Tom would you marry me?"

"Of course I would. What sort of question is..." Tom stopped, realisation that Andy wasn't just asking him out of curiosity. "Yer actually asking me right now, ain't you?"

"Yes." Andy took hold of his hands. "You don't have to give me an answer right now, not if you don't want to. If you want to think about it that's okay." 

"I don't need time to think," Tom said, smiling. "I've never been right good at thinking anyway, so I'll just tell you. Yes, of course I will." 

"And you say I've got a flare for the dramatic," Jack said, nudging Ianto. 

"I believe I said the over-dramatic," he replied, amused. "And I never said I didn't like it." 

"So if I..." Jack began, then stopped as Ianto shook his head. "Not the time?" he said, sounding defeated.

"Later." Ianto took Jack's hand in his, and then said quietly, "When we're home. Right now this is for them." 

"Oh Andy you had me worried for a minute there. Congratulations, I won't ask when the big day is, because you don't know yet." Gwen hugged him as soon as he'd let go of Tom. "But I hope when its time, that there might be an invitation."

"Of course," Andy said, looking and sounding a bit stunned, like he couldn't quite believe what he'd done. "You, Rhys and Ceri, all of you. Not really thought about it, but yes all you, everybody here. Tom will have people to invite, but of course you all are. I don't know when..." He looked back at Tom. "You did just say yes, didn't you?" 

"Course I did," Tom replied. "I weren't ever gonna say no."

"I think we should leave our newly engaged couple in peace," Martha said, giving Mickey a nudge. "We've got a long ride back home."

There was a quick round of hugs, handshakes and goodbyes, and then finally everybody was on their way. 

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do," Jack called out as they closed the door. 

Even with his hearing sharper than a humans this soon after changing back, Tom could only catch part of it. Martha reminding him about stitches, Ianto then saying something about being surprisingly flexible and followed by Jack laughing. 

"I can't quite believe I asked you," Andy said, putting his arms round him. "That you said yes. You did say yes, didn't you?" 

"You've already asked me the that. There weren't no way I were ever gonna say no," Tom said, closing his eyes and leaning against him. It still wasn't exactly comfortable, but it was better than it had been. 

"I know it could have been better." 

"What? You mean like fireworks or something?" Tom asked, trying to think what he'd seen people do on the telly. He'd never seen anybody propose in real life. Or been to a wedding. They were going to have a wedding. 

Andy frowned. "Maybe, I don't know. It should have been something special."

"Fireworks are over in a few minutes and gun powder ain't all that romantic, not really," Tom said, "Well not unless you need you blow something up to rescue somebody, so you can ask them to marry yer, then I 'spose it could be. But, the important thing it were you asking me, the other stuff don't matter compare to it being you. That's special all on its own"

"What did I do to deserved somebody like you?" 

"I dunno. It's just you being you You know what I would like?" Tom said, leaning against Andy and closing his eyes. "A cup tea." 

"I think we're out of milk," Andy said, then tried not to yawn. 

"I don't think I'll bother then," Tom said, "How about we go to bed and have some later? I think we could both do with a good sleep." 

"Cups of tea and an early bedtime," Andy said, still not letting go of him. "We're turning into an old married couple already." 

"It's just getting in practice," Tom said, certain now he wasn't ever going to stop smiling. "For all them years to come when we are."

It had barely been worth putting the shirt on, Tom thought as he unfastened it, tired hands fumbling over the buttons. 

Andy sat on the edge of the bed, picking at the edge of the duvet, reluctant now to get in. 

"If yer not tired you don't have to, you can go watch telly for a bit," Tom said, hoping that really was the reason and that Andy wasn't already having second thoughts. "I don't mind."

"It's not that. I'm being stupid, I know I am, but if I go to sleep I'm scared that when I wake up all this will be gone," Andy said, looking round the room, fear in his eyes. "That all this a dream, that you won't be here and I'll be alone. That the weevil..." He closed his eyes. "I want to be happy. Why can't I just be happy?" 

"You can. I'm here. I ain't gonna go anywhere," Tom said taking his hand and holding it tightly. "I told yer, you don't get rid of me that easily. It all over now. All that weird stuff. Well not all of it because I'm one of them, but you know what I mean."

"Yes." Andy lay down next to him. "I know. I just wish I could stop thinking about what's going to go wrong."

"I know you do." Tom rested his head next to Andy's. "An' one day you will, because thing'll all be okay, 'cause I'll make them okay. Whatever it takes."

"It's not that simple." 

Tom could hear Andy's heart pounding, like he was terrified or running for his life. Post change enhanced senses blessing and curse in equal measure. "I know, but I'm still gonna try, 'cause even if it don't work all the time even if it's only a bit then it's worth it." 

 

****

Things weren't instantly great, but Tom hadn't really expected them to be. His stitches hurt and so did Andy's arm, sleep didn't always come peacefully for either of them, and there were times when Andy just seemed so distant that it was like he wasn't quite there. But without the threat of vampires and dog fights hanging over them and with the weather improving so that they could spend more time outside again things felt more hopeful than they had for quite a while.

The wedding, which Tom knew should really be called a Civil Partnership, although neither of them ever called it that, was still a formless thing that would happen at some point soon. They'd not set a date yet, and Tom couldn't quite shake the fear that as soon as they did something would come along and screw it all up. There were enough things to worry about even before they got to that point. Would he need a birth certificate to be able to get married? and if he did how would he get one? His real parents and him as far as the world was concerned had died more than twenty years ago. He didn't even know their names. He'd been too hurt and upset when he'd found out that McNair hadn't really been his father to listen, and then afterwards it didn't feel like it mattered, McNair had been his dad in every way that mattered. The only one who'd known their names had been Nina and she was gone too. He'd be able to find out, with some help from Andy. There'd be something online about a young family slaughtered in a wild animal attack in Cornwall in the early Nineties. 

It didn't feel right and the more he thought about it the worse it became. No, he told himself, he do what he'd done for jobs inn the past claim that he'd lost it in a house fire, maybe they'd be okay with it. McNair had claimed they were gypsies a few times, that he had no idea if they were registered anywhere or not. The other possibility was asking Gwen and the Torchwood lot if they could help. They seemed to know lots of stuff about finding out about things and covering stuff up like they had with the vampire and the dog fights. Maybe they could get him, which said McNair was his dad. He'd have liked that. 

Once they'd got that far there would be where to have it. He read up enough that they wouldn't be able to have it in a church, but he was okay with that. Neither him or Andy went normally so it would be a bit weird to go just for this. A hotel or a town hall seemed to be place of choice, which was good as it would mean Hal could go as well, without the religious side of it being weird for him. And he definitely wanted Hal there. Alex too. So that left the question of whether they should have it in Cardiff or Barry, or pick somewhere between the two. 

And that was another problem with weddings, there were guests you had to invite. The Torchwood lot would be invited, and he was pretty sure that Andy's brother who'd invited them over for Boxing Day would come, and maybe the one who was in the Navy. But his Mum had been very much against them being together. He wanted to believe that she would put aside her feelings and turn up for Andy's sake, to wish him well, but he didn't think she would, and he dreaded what that would do to Andy if she refused to come or even worse came and said the sort of things she'd said at Christmas. 

He'd not got many people he could invite. Hal and Alex of course, and Allison and if Allison was seeing anybody them as well, as that was the polite thing to do. He'd read it somewhere. It wasn't much of a list, but he knew they'd be happy for him and that counted most in his mind. 

Before he invited them to the wedding, he knew would actually need to tell them about Andy. Hal and Alex knew he was living with Andy at the farm, but in the couple of letters and cards he'd sent then he'd never managed to say that it was more than just sharing a house like they'd done at Honolulu Heights. It didn't seem right telling them in a letter, he should do it in person and then he could invite them to the wedding too. He'd make sure they got proper fancy paper invitations too, he knew Hal would like that. Hal always liked fancy, old fashioned stuff. 

“I’ve bin thinking,” Tom said, nearly a month after the fight with the vampires and Andy's sudden proposal, knowing that he couldn't put it off any longer. “And I know I ain’t got no family for you to meet, but there’s Hal and Alex. And since were properly together and that. I want you to meet them.” He frowned and then added, “Well you’ll meet Hal. Alex is a ghost, so you won’t be able to see her. Only weird things like me an' vampires an' other ghosts can.”

“You’re not weird,” Andy said, pulling him closer. "I'm sure it'll be fine. I can't be any worse than meeting my family."

Andy's mum's refusal to accept their relationship was a lingering source of unhappiness for Andy, and one that Tom had no way of solving. 

*. *. *. 

 

The drive down to Barry Island felt odd. Not a bad odd or a good odd, just odd, and it took Tom most of the trip to work out why. He'd never expected to go back. Which was awful as it was where his friends were and his dad, but as he'd told Andy, werewolves didn't usually get to grow old. 

He looked at Andy and smiled. They could have a couple of days or two here and then head back to the farm for the full moon. And after that they could start making plans for the wedding. Andy had mentioned that his brother in the Navy, James was on leave in September, not in a we should definitely have the wedding then kind of way, but Tom decided that it was sort of implied. Apart from that making sure as much of Andy's family as possible could come to it was a good thing, it would nice for him to see that they were happy for him and not all like his mum. 

"Do yer mind if we stop off here first?" Tom said as they drove past the edge of the wood. Not just a wood. It was The Wood. The one him and his dad had called home for a while, that still had the camper van in it and in a quiet clearing his dad. 

"No." Andy looked around for somewhere to park. "What's here?" 

"It were where I lived," Tom said. "Not always, but it were the last place I lived with me dad and had my old live, before I started trying to be like a normal person."

"You should have said before. Do you want me to call them and tell them that we'll be a bit later than we said?"

"We won't be that late and I don't even know if they'll answer the phone, I mean to listen to it, as you won't be able to heard either of them and ghost and vampires can't be heard on phones. I dunno why, I've never bin able to work it out." 

It didn't take long to find some where to park and after locking the land rover they walked into the wood together. The woodland felt the same and in an odd way it was like coming home. He'd not thought that it would. Sunlight filtering down between the leaves onto the plants and bushes that formed a thick tangle between the huge oaks and beeches. The woods were ancient, like the woods around Cwm Elan, something unchanging that had been there long before him and would remain long after. 

Tom looked at Andy walking along beside him. Andy always seemed more relaxed when there was nobody else around. It wasn't that he was scared of other people, Tom had come to realise, but he was definitely wary of them, like he was always expecting them to be angry with him or say something nasty. Maybe it would get better in time, Tom thought, or maybe it wouldn't. Whatever happened he'd be there with him to try and help the best he could. 

It didn't matter it was more than a year since he'd walked away, the winding paths were familiar and it didn't take long to find the one that lead deep into the wood. 

The camper van was overgrown, plants growing around the wheels and last autumn's leaves settled in drifts inside it. It was part of the wood now, like his dad was. 

"So this is where you grew up," Andy said looking inside. "It's...err...cosy?"

"You don't have to be polite. It were small and cold and drafty," Tom said. How had him and his dad lived there all those years? "It were where we lived, but it weren't exactly home."

"If you wanted to get it fixed up or anything," Andy said looking around it, trying to work out if it was possible to get it towed. "We could."

"Its bin broke for a long time, since before I even knew Hal and Alex," Tom said, turning away from it. "And we've got a new life, with a house like proper people. It belongs here, part of the past."

"Tom?" Andy said leaving the van and moving over to him. "You don't have to leave everything behind to make a future. I don't expect you to."

"It'd just be weird havin' it parked out by the farm. 

"Any way it ain't really the van I came to see," Tom said, looking over to the far edge of the clearing. "It were me dad." 

The mound of earth had flattened and grass had grown long about it, but the simple wooden cross and plaque remained. In a few years it would disappear, the woodland reclaiming the space. It was how it should be, how his dad would have wanted it, Tom told himself, but he felt tears burn in his eyes none the less. 

"Do you some time?" Andy said, looking back down the path. "I could probably find my way back to the car." 

'Nah, not by myself anyway," Tom said. "What I want to say to me dad is about you, so it's only right you get to hear it an' all." 

"I know I ain't been around much, but I've off doing what you wanted, living a normal life.   
"This is Andy, Dad. You always said I should wait until I found the right one. Well I have. I know he probably ain't quite what you thought when you said about all that bees and birds stuff, but we're happy and I know that's what you really wanted for me. To be safe and happy." Tom crouched down and picked up the glass jar that still held the burnt out remains of a candle. "You'd have liked him. I know you would. He's honest and brave and he's fought stuff nastier than any vampire, and he did it for me."

"I've tried to do everything you said, about having a normal life and not fighting all the time, and I'm mostly doing it and a lot of that's down to him. We've got a real house together and I've got a job, so I'm only staking vamps if they start it first." Tom took a tea light out of his coat pocket and put it in the jar. "But that ain't the only reason I'm here, it's that me and Andy are gonna get married soon, so he'll be family and I wanted you to meet him." 

After lighting the candle, Tom stood back up and looked around. The wood around them was just the same, the light from the candle lost in the bright sunlight. He not been expecting anything to happen, life didn't work like, but it was disappointing all the same. 

"You okay?" Andy said, putting an arm around him.

"I think so. I just wish he could've been here to see you, to see us get married and that," Tom said leaning into him. "But if he had been here I'd have never have gone off and met you, so I wouldn't have been able to get him to meet you 'cause I wouldn't know you. And I don't not wanna know you, 'cause that'd be horrible, but losing him was an' all. And I wish I could have yer both here, but I can't. That didn't make much sense, did it?"

Andy leant his head against his shoulder. "I think I know what you mean. I never thought I'd leave the police or Cardiff, I never thought my life would have aliens and werewolves and vampires in it until a few year ago."

"Do yer regret findin' out about all that stuff?" 

Andy was quiet for a while then said, "No. It's mad I know, but more bad things that have happened to me have been because of normal, ordinary people. Because they didn't care, 

"I don't think I knew any normal people before you, not properly like," Tom said, "I were really lucky finding you."

Leaning against Andy, Tom closed his eyes and listened to the scents and sounds of the woodland around them. Soon he'd they go and meet Hal and Alex, and given them their news. Tom smiled, life was as good as it ever got.

TBC  
Monday 8th Dec. 

A/N  
Sorry it has been ages since I last posted any of this. It's not been abandoned. I've never done that with a fic and am not starting now. My only excuse as poor as it is was I got sucked into another fandom (Rivers of London) writing for a fest, that's done and this fic is back on. 

There are only four more parts to go after this and I am planning on posting one per week. Yes, by the end of the year this story will finally be done.


	37. Chapter 37

The drive down to Barry Island and the soon to happen visit to Tom's friends felt to Andy like they were drawing a line under the past, the bad bits of it at least. Nearly a month since the events with the vampires, the weevil, coming so close to losing Tom and his spur of the moment proposal, nothing seemed to have calmed down. Although the claw marks on Tom's side had healed well and the scratches on his own arm had become scars now the scabs had fallen off, the damage that night had done lingered in his head far more than it did on either of their bodies. 

Tom getting hurt, his own fight with the weevil, the wait to see if Tom survived transforming back from being a werewolf after losing so much blood haunted his waking thoughts as much as they did his dreams. Sometimes even the proposal was twisted into nightmares and were still moments where he couldn't believe that it was happening. Times when he'd woken late at night and Tom for whatever reason hadn't been in the bedroom when he'd been half convinced that he'd dreamt it all and that it was all a grief-stricken spiral into delusion and madness. 

Even when he was sure they had all survived their impending wedding was still a source of worry. He hadn't told his own family that he was engaged yet, as while Simon, Rachel and their children would be happy for him, and James when he finally heard would probably say about time too, David and his mother were an unknown quantity. Part of him held the desperate hope that after a few months to come to terms with the idea that Tom was the only person he wanted to spend his life with they might at least wish him well, even if they didn't want to see him. The part that kept him awake, along with a hundred and one other fears, was that their reaction would be every bit as cruel as it had been at Christmas and he would have to come to terms with the fact that they would never accept who he was. 

"You okay?" Tom asked, seeming to realise that Andy's silence has slipped from one of thoughtfulness to something more negative and unhappy.

"Yeah." Andy sighed, not really wanting to talk about it yet or if he was honest, at all. "I was just thinking about people, places and fitting in." 

"I think I know what yer mean," Tom said, "These woods, well any old woodland really. They feel like home. Well not exactly home, but I 'spose it's like going back to where yer grew up and it sort of feels right and a bit weird at the same time." 

It wasn't exactly, but as he'd not raised his fears about how his mother and eldest brother would look on their engagement and eventual wedding, it was easier to just agree. Coming back here to where his dad was buried had to be hard enough for Tom without him being pathetic about his own still very much alive family. Tom he knew wouldn't have minded if he had, he would have said it was okay to be sad about stuff. Somehow that made things feel worse, more of a failure than he already saw himself. Tom had had it far rougher than him the last two months with vampires, being forced to fight for his life and with getting hurt twice in the space of a month. Tom shouldn't have to deal with him thinking the worst all the time, he was sure of that. 

"That ain't it, is it?" Tom said, "Well not all of it anyway, there's somethin' else. Whatever it is you can tell me. If it's 'cause we'll be meeting Hal later and he's a vampire, it'll be alright, he one of the good ones. Probably the only one. He won't try to bite yer or anything."

"It's not that. It's just things, me being stupid," Andy said, still hoping that he could avoid talking about what was really bothering him.

"Don't be daft, yer not stupid." Tom leant in and kissed him. "It's gonna be alright. They'll like yer, I know they will. So don't worry." 

There was a loud, appreciative whistle and a young woman stepped out from amongst the trees. "Way to go, Tom. Is this why we finally get a visit?" 

Letting go of Tom, Andy turned and stared at her. The woman was a bit taller than Tom, with short reddish-brown hair and she looked like she was dressed to go on a night out. It really wasn't the sort of look people went in for for hanging around the woods just before lunch time on a weekday. 

"You can see her?" Tom said shocked, as he looked first at Andy and then at the woman.

"Yes," Andy said giving him a baffled look. "Why wouldn't I? She's right in front of us and talking to us."

"You can hear her too?"

"Hello, Earth to Tom," she said walking over to them. "Are you going to introduce me to tall, cute and Welsh or not?"

Andy looked from one to the other, certain that he was missing something, but was unable to work out what. "I'm Andy. Tom, what's going on? What's wrong?" 

The look on Tom's face was one that he'd never wanted to see. It was hurt, angry and afraid as he stared at the mostly healed scars the weevil had left on Andy's arm. "You lied. You lied to me. It was me." 

"No, it wasn't," Andy reaching out to him. "It was...."

"Stop lying," Tom said, sounding choked. He scrubbed a hand across his eyes. "I did that, and that's why you can see her. You lied." 

"Tom, please..." 

"No! I'm not listening." Tears wet on his face, Tom turned away from him and fled into the trees.

"Tom!" Andy ran a few steps forwards, but he'd had already disappeared into the woods.

"Okay," Alex said, walking over to him. "What am I missing here? I mean apart from Tom not telling us he'd found a cute werewolf boyfriend." 

"I'm not. Not a werewolf that is. I am his boyfriend, didn't tell you?" Andy said heart sinking. Why hadn't he told them? Had he just wanted it to be a surprise or was it something else? Did he think they wouldn't approve or something because he was a regular human? Was that even a thing? Were werewolves only supposed to date other werewolves? "We been together the best part of a year. We came to tell you we are engaged and to invite you to the wedding."

Alex gave a squeal of delight. "That so great. Tom is like the sweetest guy ever. But I still don't get why he's just run off. I mean, those are pretty noticeable and he knows how the turning people into a werewolf thing goes. He wouldn't have meant to do it, but accidents happen. I never meant to be a ghost." She shrugged. "But hey here I am."

"I'm not a werewolf. He didn't do it. He really didn't do it. It was another creature, I don't know if I should tell you, but it's called a weevil, and it really wasn't him." Andy stared into the trees, but there was no sign that Tom was anywhere nearby. What if he'd gone? Runaway again? What if he never came back? Dropping down on to his knees, Andy covered his face with his hands. He couldn't do this. Couldn't lose Tom. He'd barely been hanging on as it was, dreams about weevils, death, vampires, his family and losing Tom haunting his sleep. He'd tried so hard not to bother him with it, to hide it all, to try to pretend he was okay.

There was cold shivery feeling across his shoulders and he realised that Alex had tried to give him a hug. 

"Sorry," she said, "I keep forgetting that...well let's just say being a ghost sucks sometimes. Walking through walls and all that, not as much fun as it sounds." Alex gave him a sad smile. "It really wasn't him, was it?" 

Words caught in Andy's throat. Everything was ruined. Why hadn't he told Tom about his nightmares about the fight with the weevil? Why had he avoiding talking about it, changing the subject whenever Tom asked if he was okay? No wonder Tom thought he was lying now. It was his fault, like it always was, like everybody used to tell him it was.

"Really not knowing what to do here," Alex said mostly to herself, then sat down next to him. "We can either wait here for him to come back or we can go back to the house and wait for him there. The house is probably better. Hal's been cleaning the whole morning and there will be tea. I know it doesn't help, but it can't make it any worse and it'll be warmer."

Without Tom, Andy wasn't sure that any of it mattered. Warm or cold he was still alone. He looked at the woodlands which seemed a lot less welcoming than it had when Tom had been with him. "Alright, whatever you think is best," he said, not wanting to have to be the one to make the decision. 

The walk back thought the woods passed in a blur and it was only when Alex guiding him towards a residential street did he even think about the land rover parked back on the other side of the woods. He doubted Tom would take it and driving it himself right now seemed the fastest way to have a serious accident. Feeling sick at the thoughts that wouldn't now stop running through his brain, about how if there was nobody else involved, just a tree or a wall then it would bee no great loss to anybody, Andy followed Alex up the steps and across the lawn to the front door of Honolulu Heights.

The door was opened by a man who Andy had little doubt was Hal. From Tom's descriptions of his, it was unlikely that there would be another smartly dressed man who was wearing yellow, rubber washing up gloves and an apron. 

He looked at Andy and then at Alex. "Why do I get the distinct feeling that things have not gone to plan."

"There was a plan?" Alex said, sarcasm hiding the fact she was worried. "No wonder its all gone tits up. We should never plan anything. Our plans never go right."

"There was nothing wrong with the plan," Hal replied, showing them in. "The plan was merely that I would make sure the house was clean and tidy, that Tom's old room was aired and that we had sufficient shopping in. My plan was working perfectly. I even had cake." 

"He fusses when he's worried," Alex said, as Hal turned his back on them to rearrange some books on shelf. "At least the dominoes aren't out yet."

"Tom said," Andy replied faintly. Part of him wanted to hide somewhere quite, where he didn't have to talk or think or feel, the other wanted to be out searching the woods for Tom. Both felt utterly futile, so Andy leant against the wall and tried not to think about anything.

With the books reordered by height, Hal turned back to them. "Is anybody going to tell me what has happened?" 

Alex glanced at Andy, then decided she had better explain, said, "Okay, from what I can gather Tom and Andy, that's Andy by the way. The one he lives with. Turns out it's Lives With in the the they're going out sense." She pointed to him. "They're going to get married, which is great. But Tom thinks he's accidentally turned him into a werewolf. Andy says that's not true and the scratches are from a weevil, which is a type of alien that lives under Cardiff."

Hal listened eyes wide and mouth slightly open. Then he nodded, looking a bit stunned and said, "I should make tea." The he hurried our of the living room.

"That could have gone better," Alex said mostly to herself. She looked Andy, "I'll just go and see if he needs a hand." There was a faint pop and Alex vanished. 

Andy looked around the room. The counter bar from when it had been a hotel was still in place as was the wall painted with a Hawaiian beach scene that Tom had told him about. It was easy to imagine him there, sitting on the sofa, watching TV or making something, just like they did at home. Would Tom come back here? he wondered, or would he run? What if he never came back? There'd be no way to find him. Even if he called Gwen and told her....what? That Tom had left him? Because that was what it was, he run off and left him.

Feeling sick at the prospect of having to tell people that the wedding might be off, Andy sat down on the sofa and coved his face with his hands.

The thoughts were still chasing themselves around his head when Hal returned a few minutes later, with two cups of tea and minus the rubber gloves. "I would try not to worry too much," he said as he placed the cups on coasters on the coffee table. "This isn't the first time Tom has run off. Although I had hoped he'd settled down and grown out of it."

"He ended up wandering the countryside and sleeping rough in a tent for six weeks before he found my house," Andy said. He didn't feel like drinking the tea at all, but he picked it up anyway. "That really doesn't make me feel any better." 

"There were other times too and he did return," Hal said, sitting down opposite him. "From what I've been told he did the same thing after discovering the truth about McNair and his parents, after McNair died and after the business with Kirby. Had I handled the situation better perhaps he wouldn't have left after the unpleasantness with Larry." There was fleeting look of guilt on his face then he smiled. "Running off for a few hours does seem to be his way of dealing with things. There are two places he'll go when he's not here. Either McNair's grave or a public house in town."

"We were at McNair's grave when he legged it," Alex said. "Do you want me to pop back there have a look round?"

"I don't think that would be the best use of time. He will be trying to think things through, then in a couple of hours give up and and find the nearest a public house," Hal said, sounding like he was trying to convince himself and was only partially succeeding. "I expect he will arrive back here around midnight, apologetic and worse for drink. I hope is that he doesn't get into any fights or fall in with any unscrupulous lawyers this time."

Alex frowned. "This is the same Tom we're talking about here? Embarrassed by women's mags, watches kids TV shows on a saturday morning and is generally a really sweet guy? That Tom? Because I'm not seeing it."

"It was a hard time for us all. I had lost my friends, and so had Tom and Annie. A ghost came to stay with us, not one like you I might add, his name was Kirby. He was manipulative and vindictive in a way that I had only associated with the elders of my kind. He tricked us all, but Tom took it hardest of all. It was his first birthday without his father, his twenty first, one that he believed to be special. Kirby lead him him to believe that Annie and I didn't care about him. When the truth was that we simply didn't know as he had not told us when it was." Hal looked down. "I had not realised how much I would come to value his friendship at that point, but I think it was the turning point where I saw him as more than just another werewolf. He is a truly good man. You are most fortunate to have him."

Andy nodded, feeling like he was sinking into a sea of misery. Tom had told him a bit about Kirby, but it looked liked he'd glossed over just how much he'd been upset by it. Trying to protect me, he thought bitterly, he must have known I'd be useless if he needed me. It wasn't true, and part of him knew it, but somehow it felt easier to believe that everything that was wrong in his life was somehow his own fault and that he deserved it in some twisted way. 

Hal leant forwards a little on his seat, before asking seriously, "I know that you believe Tom to be innocent of causing your injury, but are you completely sure that the scratches were not made by him? When he is not himself, I am not certain if anyone could tell who he is."

"Very." Andy put his cup down, his hand shaking and hot tea splashing over his fingers. "Tom had been hurt, I was trying to keep him safe. It was a weevil."

Hal frowned. "But they are a type of beetle that lives in ships biscuits. I fail to see how an insect could cause such injuries." 

"Not that type. They a creature, an alien, they live under Cardiff." Andy looked at Alex. "She told you that. I told her. It wasn't Tom. Yes, Tom was a werewolf at the time, he'd been fighting the creature, the weevil. It had knocked to the ground...it was..." Andy closed his eyes, his hands curling into fists, the nails digging into his palms. "I stopped it, but scratched me. Not Tom. I have witnesses that can tell you it wasn't him. Please, will somebody just believe me?"

"I do," Alex said, sitting down next to him. "I mean maybe that's it. The Weevil thing clawed Tom and then when it clawed you it still had werewolf blood on them. Can you catch being a werewolf like that?"

"It doesn't work like that," Hal said, "And you don't smell like a werewolf. Not that I have ever met a werewolf prior to their first change, so perhaps the smell comes later."

"Why doesn't it work like that?" Alex asked. "Because according to you werewolf blood is some pretty freaky stuff."

"To vampires. I have never heard of it having an adverse affect on a human."

"So it's not their blood then?" Alex said, "You learn something every day." 

"To become a werewolf you need to be scratched or bitten by a werewolf while they are either changing or fully changed into their wolf form. It is simply not possible to catch it from them while they are in human form. If it were I suspect that half the world would be changing come the full moon." Hal said. "Quite apart from that I would not think that they would have their own blood in their mouths or under their nails as a matter of course for that to be the method of transmission. There has to be some other mechanism that causes it."

"He going into his 'time to lecture the stupid not-a-vampires' mode," Alex said, sounding like she found it more funny than annoying. 

"I have never called either you or Tom stupid," Hal replied sounding rather put out. "Although it is rare, there are people who can see ghosts," he added thoughtfully. "Have you ever seen any before?" 

"I don't know." Andy looked over at Alex. "I didn't realise you were a ghost, not until I realised who you are. I thought I did on a school trip, years ago, but I'm not sure. The teacher thought it might just have been a tour guide in costume. So maybe I've seen loads, but if they look normal like you there's no way I would be able to tell. I'm not any help, am I?"

"I would not expect you to be," Hal said, "The world ghosts, vampires and werewolves inhabit while technically the same as your own is a hidden one. We live in secrecy or otherwise we would not live at all."

It was basically what Tom had told him, about why he'd hidden what he was, that he'd been scared of what people would do to him. A life lived in secrecy and fear. How many of them were there out there? Andy wondered, how many times had he seen one and never realised? 

"To our shame vampires have never really seen werewolves as anything more than a wild animals to be baited and used for entertainment," Hal continued. "For my own part I have only ever counted two werewolves as my friends, and neither of them were particularly knowledgeable on their kind. Not their fault, the lives werewolves lead are so often short and isolated from others of their kind they know nothing more than what their own experiences have taught them." 

Andy listened the words going round in his head, none of them getting him any closer to an answer. "So basically," he said eventually. "Neither of you know. Tomorrow I could be howling at the moon or feeling like an idiot for worrying in the first place."

"Pretty much, although if you don't change I think Tom's going to look the bigger idiot for running off," Alex said. While Hal sighed and said, "A little bleak, but in essence true." 

They talked for a little longer and Alex offered to go and find another ghost to ask if they'd come across any normal people who could see them. Hal pointed out that bringing Lady Mary into the equation was likely to make matters worse rather than better. 

It turned out Hal had to go into work at three and would be gone until around midnight as the hotel he worked in, The Barry Grand, had a conference for deckchair manufacturers on. Hal straightened his tie before he left, saying, "It is in every way as thrilling as it sounds. I doubt I shall be late."

A numb feeling had settled over Andy as the afternoon wore on, like everything that was happening around him was separate, a sheet of glass between him and the rest of the world. Alex had gone out to search for a while, but after finding nothing returned to the house with a faint pop. With nothing else to do Andy and Alex had walked to where his land rover was parked and had then driven it back to Honolulu Heights. 

Afternoon dragged into evening and then into the early part of the night, and while Alex talked to try to keep him occupied, Andy found he couldn't concentrate on anything she was saying. She reminded him a bit of Gwen. Nice, well meaning and with a sense of humour that must have made Tom blush. It didn't seem right that somebody who seemed so alive was a ghost. But that was life, and apparently the afterlife too or so it seemed. Cruel and random in whose lives it screwed with. 

The warm day had given way to an increasingly wet and windy evening, and idea of Tom cold, alone and thinking the worst, frightened him. Sitting shivering and trying to not cry in the living room at Honolulu Heights had not been how he'd pictured meeting Tom's friends. 

After an unsuccessful attempt at taking their minds of Tom and to pass the time until he hopefully returned by watching quizzes and the Antiques Roadshow on the TV Alex seemed to realised that Andy wasn't going to hold it together for too much longer unless they found Tom. So after giving him a reassuring smile and a slightly freaky incorporeal pat on his hand, she'd said check the pubs, pointing out she could pop from one to the other in a few minutes and nobody would see a thing or ask if she wanted to buy a drink. 

The house seemed incredibly empty and after a minute or two Andy went to the front door and looked out. There was no way that Tom would have sat around drinking tea and waiting if it had been him out in the woods. He hesitated for a moment, wondering if he should leave the house empty? What if Tom came back while they were all out? 

The chances of it didn't feel all that high and after one last glance back inside, Andy slipped out of the house. Shivering in the cold drizzle that had started to fall and with only a vague idea of where the woods were, it was a while to find them and his clothes were damp and clinging to him by the time he stepped into the rustling, creaking darkness of a wood after dark. 

What had felt welcoming and alive in the warm sunlight and with Tom by his side now felt unfamiliar and frightening. Wishing that he'd thought to take a coat and a torch that was better than the on his phone, Andy walked deeper into trees. If Alex's theory was correct and tomorrow night he was going to transform surely he should have some of the werewolf benefits by now, Andy thought as he nearly tripped over a root by the side of the path. The close to the full moon Tom was able to see better in the dark, his hearing was sharper than any humans and he had a wolf-like sense of smell. Turning off the light on his phone for a moment, Andy looked around and then closed his eyes and listened. It didn't seem to be happening, so he tried to think of that as a good sign, even if it did make finding Tom harder. 

Turning the light back on he wandered deeper into the woods. Finding his way back to Honolulu Heights didn't matter, he told himself, he was going to find Tom and nothing else was allowed to matter, any other thoughts apart from the ones about finding Tom and getting him to listen to him were a distraction. So when after just a few minutes into the woods, Andy realised he was lost he was determined not to let it bother him.

An hour and a half later, cold, wet and scratched by bushes and splattered in mud from slipping on the uneven path in the dark, Andy was starting to reconsider if finding Tom where he was most at home and most easily able to hide was the best plan. What if Tom had gone back to Honolulu Heights? If he found him gone would he go back out to look for him? Would he care? What if he went out to look for him and got hurt? What if he didn't see the land rover parked to the side of Honolulu Heights, would he think he'd gone home without him?

The battery on his phone gave a warning bleep that the power was getting low, and that soon the torch app that he had would stop working along with the rest of it. Switching it off for a moment, Andy closed his eyes and listened to the unfamiliar sounds around him. Tom would be able to tell him exactly what they were, but to his ears it was nothing more than formless creaking, rustling and dripping.

Opening his eyes again, Andy was just about to turn his light back on when he saw a faint light flickering amongst the trees off to his left. Not really caring what was making it, Andy made his way towards it. Negotiating the woods in the dark wasn't easy, but Andy didn't want to risk switching on his phone-light and losing the other in the process. 

As he got nearer Andy realised that the faint light coming from the old camper van. Trying to be as quiet as he could he walked over to it, hoping that Tom wouldn't run from him again. 

Tom was sitting hunched up on the back step of it, bottle of cheap vodka in his hand. He looked up only once Andy was right in front of him. His eyes were red and puffy as he stared up miserably at him. "Jus' go away." 

"No. I want you to listen to me," Andy said leaning against the van, making it awkward for Tom to get past him. At least that was part of the reason, the rest was that the relief at finding Tom here and safe had left cold and shaky his legs suddenly like jelly beneath him.

"Why?" Tom rubbed a hand across his eyes. "So yer can lie to me again? It weren't like I weren't gonna find out eventually, were it? so why? why'd you lie to me? Why'd yer do it? I thought you loved me."

"I didn't lie and I'm still not," Andy said catching hold of his hand. "And of course I still love you, you idiot, why else would I be wandering out in the woods looking for you? You can call Gwen if you like or Martha or Mickey, they all saw the weevil. They saw what it did and what I did." He swallowed hard. He was going to have to tell Tom the full story eventually, but voice cracked all the same. "I thought it had killed you. So I killed it, I grabbed a metal bar and I hit it. I kept hitting it. Hitting until it stopped, until it...until." The memory of its blood hot and sticky on his hands, how it had raised a clawed hand to shield itself and how he'd not stopped. How human its eyes had looked before they had closed for the last time. "Why do you think I can't sleep? It's not because I can't see how we can afford to get the road to the farm resurfaced, okay mostly not that. It's I see it, I see you...I killed it and I can't...I can't stop thinking about it."

"Hey, it's okay. It's all over, just take a while to know it sometimes. We all remember stuff like, you shoulda told me," Tom said, seeming to have forgotten he was angry with him. Getting up, he took off his coat and put it around Andy's shoulders. "Yer hands freezing' you know that? It ain't all that warm tonight, you should've put a coat on. Don't want you getting sick, that'd be my fault an' all."

"I won't. I'm fine." Not that that was right. He wasn't fine, he was so far from fine it made him want to laugh at the utter absurdity of claiming to be. To laugh until it all turned to tears and he could let go. He wanted to fall and have Tom catch him like he always did, but Tom didn't look any better than he felt. It wasn't fair that when Tom needed to be the strong one that he was going to let him down.

"I still want yer to have it. It don't matter, and I don't matter, 'cause I think I'm too drunk enough 'm not feeling cold. And I still don't how can you see Alex?" Tom said plaintively, the words slurring together in places. "I don't understand." 

"I don't know, Hal said that maybe I just could, there are few people who can do it apparently. It's rare, but it happens. Maybe it was growing up in Cardiff on the Rift. Or they say people who are mad can see them, maybe that's it. I guess there has to be some upside to spending half your life feeling like you should do the world a favour and..." Andy said stopped, the bitterness and desperation in his own voice frightening him. "And Alex wondered if maybe when the weevil clawed you and then it clawed me that maybe it still had some of your blood on them."

"Then it's still my fault, if it's that," Tom said, starting to cry again. "You were trying to help me and I've made you like me. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. You shoulda just let it have me, it'd have bin better than that.."

"It wouldn't, and we don't know for sure," Andy said, putting his arms around him. "It was just an idea, Hal didn't think much of it. He thinks there's some magic type thing to it, but he doesn't know what." 

"And you?" Tom said, "What'd'ya think?"

"I don't know. I don't feel any different," Andy said. Looking out at the dark and silent woodland, he wondered again why if he was just a few hours from being a werewolf he hadn't got improved senses by now? "If I let go of you, you won't run away will you? Because I can't...if she's right, Tom. I can't do this without you."

"I won't," Tom replied still sounding like he wanted to cry. "It were a stupid thing t'do. I'm sorry, I were just scared. I've always said if I did it, if I changed somebody then that'd be it, that I'd..."

"Don't you dare," Andy snapped, grabbing hold of Tom's shoulders and shaking him. He could couldn't hear him say it, because if he did it would never leave him. It would be there in his head forever, ready to consume him every time Tom was out of his sight. "Don't you fucking dare leave me to do this alone. I can't...I can't..." The breath caught in his throat, heart beating too fast and his blood roaring in his ears. 

Tom was saying something to him, but it was muffled. The flickering light of the candle started to grey out, the world falling away from him. He was sick of the fear, of having fight it all the time, of remembering how alive he'd once been and how he felt he'd never be again. He didn't want to fight any more. Closing his eyes, Andy let himself fall.

The world was dark and it smelt like Tom. It was safe. It would have been somewhere he could have stayed, could have hid from everything, if it hadn't been for one thing. 

"...won't do anything' stupid, for you I won't, I promise. I used to think that when I didn't have you or anybody. Now I've got you and won't," Tom begged, shaking and crying. "Just please be alright, please." He gave a sob and held Andy tighter. "I shouldn't've run off, it were stupid and I shoulda thought about you rather'n me, and I promise I won't do it again. Not ever. Whatever happens I'll never leave yer. Never. Please just say something. Please." 

Andy head ached and his heart still felt like it was racing as he tried to move, he didn't want to sit up or face anything that was going on, but with effort he managed to say, "Don't let me go." 

Tom heard him and said, "Yer scared me. I thought... I dunno what I thought. I think yer might've fainted or somethin'" He sniffed loudly. "We can stay were as long as yer want. Unless you wanna go and then we can go, wherever you want." 

"Stay," Andy said, closing his eyes and wishing that he could hid from the world in Tom's arm forever. 

Minutes or hours later, Andy wasn't sure, as Tom seemed content to sit holding him for as long as he needed it, he finally felt able to sit up. The candle had burnt away to nothing and the rain had stopped, while the woodland around them was as dark and still as it had been before. Feeling chilled to the bone, Andy tried to convince himself it was purely physical. Tom had to half frozen without his coat, feeling guilty about it and everything else, he said, "Sorry. I'm sorry."

"Don't be, it were all my fault. Are yer gunna be okay?" Tom said sounding uncertain, although whether it was about whether he should be asking or because he was afraid of what what the answer would be Andy wasn't sure.

Lying about being fine had brought them to this, and Andy shook his head. "No, but I want to be. But everything that's happened, it's too much. I can't do it. Not by myself. I don't know if I can do it at all." 

"I'll help yer, whatever happens, whatever you need me t'do," Tom said, stroking his hair. "Just tell me and I'll do it. Martha said about talking to somebody about things to me. I don't think I need to, maybe it'd help you? Do yer want me to ask her? She seemed really nice." 

What good would it do? Andy thought miserably, curling further into Tom's arms. He couldn't tell them the truth, with all its aliens, werewolves, vampires and ghosts. They'd think he was delusional. What if they locked him up and try to convince him Tom didn't exist? "Don't, please don't," Andy said, suddenly certain that's what would happen. It would be like seeing the police shrink all over again. "They can't know about werewolves or the rest of it." 

"Alright," Tom said, not sounding sure it was the right decision. "I won't unless you want me to. I think we should go back to the house and let Hal and Alex know we're okay. Is that alright?"

Andy wasn't entirely sure he wanted to do that either, but he was cold and damp, and Tom must have been half frozen without a coat. Swallowing hard, he nodded and managed a weak, "Okay." 

Tom somehow managed to lead them out of the woods and down near deserted residential streets, until shivering and stumbling they arrived back at Honolulu Heights in the early hours of the morning. 

Hal opened the door before they had got half way up the path, the warm light from the house spilling out around him and seeming to welcome them home. 

Hal looked at Tom for a moment once they were safely inside the front hallway and then hugged him. "Thomas, you really must stop doing this. You had everybody worried." 

"I know," Tom mumbled. "M'sorry. I'm idiot."

"You're back," Alex said appearing next to them in the hall, "That's all that matters. Well that and you saying you won't do it again. Have you any idea how many pubs I've been into night looking for you? I've even been to A&E, you know just in case." 

"'m very sorry," Tom mumbled detaching himself from Hal and putting an arm back around Andy. 

"Well A&E wasn't a complete loss," Alex said, with a smile. "There was a particularly cute ghost there, used be a doctor back in the Sixties. So I said I pop down again some time and find out a more about what to do in Barry when you're dead." 

"You were supposed to be looking for Tom," Hal said sounding scandalised. "Not making assignations with strangers."

"If you mean chatting up," Alex said, "There's nothing against it and he knew more about what was going on the hospital than anybody else, so two birds with one stone and all that. Plus." She pointed to herself. "Woman. I can multi-task."

As entertaining as watching Hal and Alex would have been under different circumstances, Andy didn't want to have to talk or interact with anybody. Anybody that wasn't Tom, he corrected himself. 

"We're gonna call it a night," Tom said, making Andy stayed on his feet. "It's okay if we stay in my old room, ain't it?"

"Of course," Hal replied. "It has been a trying day, hopefully tomorrow will be better."

Andy doubted it, but Tom had agreed with Hal, and then keeping an arm about him had helped him up the stairs. 

"This were my room," Tom said, showing him into a bedroom at the front of the house. "I mean it ain't much, but it's better than kipping in the van. Warmer. It even has a bed." 

"That's why they call it a bedroom," Andy said, wondering if he could crawl into it now, without having to bother to get undressed. Cold and tired, it seemed like it would be more effort than it was worth. 

"There a shower just along the hall down there." Tom leant round the door and pointed. "I'll go an see if the waters still hot. Try and get you warm again. 

"I'll wait here," Andy said. He didn't really want Tom out of his sight, but following him to the bathroom was definitely too much. 

Tom gave his hand a squeeze. "I'll only be a minute."

Andy nodded and then tried to distract himself with what was in the room. The answer was not much. A bed, a wardrobe, couple of empty cupboards and a solitary chair made up the furnishings. It should have been as impersonal as a hotel room, but for one thing. One wall was covered in pictures and notes. Cuttings from magazines and newspapers of houses, families, cars and holiday destinations were pinned haphazardly about images of Christmas and birthday parties. 

Walking up to it, Andy touched the tattered papers. It made his heart ache for what it represented: A frightened and lonely young man's hopes and dreams for a future, that for the most part must have seemed impossibly out of reach. 

Turning away from it he sat down on the end of the bed and waited for Tom to return. 

 

TBC  
By Dec 24th at the latest. 

 

A/N  
Yes, I know, this is the best part of a week late and a 7000 words a bit long. I will try to get the next part up before Christmas. I had wanted to get it done by the end of the year, but with having to work overtime at work it will probably be the first week in January by the time the last part goes up. 

Not a happy part, but it will get better from here on in for the chatacters, well with only three parts to go after this it has to to get their happy ending. (Because anybody who knows my fics know that 99% of the time the ending will be happy or at least hopeful. I don't do tragic.)


	38. Chapter 38

Why hadn't he believed him? Why had he run off? Even if Andy didn't change tomorrow night, could things really go back to how they were between them? How could Andy ever rely on him again for anything after what he'd done? Tom closed his eyes and leant his head against the cold glass of his old bedroom window. He wanted to blame the wolf for it, but it felt overwhelmingly like this was entirely his own fault. 

Behind him Andy was asleep, the covers pulled around him so that all Tom could see was the top of his head. The shower had helped a little in the sense that they'd both been warm when they got under the duvet a couple of hours earlier, but that had been about the only improvement. Andy had barely spoken to him, and while he wanted to thing that it was tiredness and worry about what the full moon would bright, he doubted that things would easily be resolved by a nights sleep and Andy remaining human.

Which was why at three am he was standing staring out a cold, wet night, unable to sleep. He had to make up for it somehow, he do whatever he could to make sure that Andy would be okay, whether he changed or not. What he didn't have was any idea where to start. 

He sighed. He'd not been able to sleep at all, worry and all the wild energy that seemed to build up in the day or two before the full moon keeping wide awake. He turned to look at Andy, and rubbed a hand across his eyes.   
He had to talk to somebody, otherwise he'd end up sitting there worrying about things until he wanted to run off and hide again or until his head was in the same state as Andy's. And then he'd be no use to either of them. 

If he'd had Martha's or Gwen's numbers he'd have called them, but the numbers were written down back at Cwm Elan Farm. Which only left Hal or Alex to talk to. He'd known Hal longer than Alex and being a bloke, even if he was a vampire he would probably understand how he was thinking better than Alex. There was also the fact Hal was older than everybody else he knew even if you added all their ages together, which hopefully meant he might have an idea about what would help. 

Slipping out of his room, Tom made his way along the corridor to Hal's room. He paused outside, hoping that Hal wasn't asleep. There was light coming from under the door, 

"Hal? You awake in there?" Tom called through the keyhole. "There's some stuff I need to ask yer."

"Yes. You can come in, I was only reading," Hal replied. "Alex found me a list of the hundred books that everybody should read. I'm not convinced, everybody should read them all. 

Tom opened the door to see Hal putting a bookmark in a copy of Lord of the Rings. Hal turned and then stared at him. Tom's heart sank, certain he was going to be told how foolish running off had been. "I know, I'm an idiot," Tom said miserably. "There ain't anything you can say Hal that'll make me feel any crapper about this than I already do."

"I have no wish to upset you further," Hal said sitting down on the end of the bed. "You have obviously suffered and those," his eyes stayed to the claw marks still clear on Tom's side, "do bear out what your young man said about fighting for you."

"That's the problem though, ain't, it." Tom said sitting down next to him. "He got hurt 'cause of me. And I didn't even realise how upset he were about it. I don't reckon he'd killed anything before. And he weren't taking it well, but I were too thick to notice, I thought he were just a bit down. And now I've gone and made it loads worse by running off and not believing him." He leant forwards head in hands. "I dunno what to do." 

"I wish could give you an answer, but I am no wiser than you, perhaps even less so as I have had a few centuries to gain wisdom and appear to have failed for the most part." Hal sighed. "Although I cannot tell you with complete certainty that Andy will not change tomorrow, I do not believe it to be likely. All the advice I can give it to allow yourselves time. It is, as they say, a great healer."

Tom didn't hold out any great hope of time solving their problems, but perhaps it might take the edge off it and let Andy see that things could be alright again. What if Andy needed more help than he could give him? What if he screwed it all up by doing something daft like running off? Or what if something happened to him while he was out on a full moon, what if Andy thought he'd run away, but really he'd got hurt and wasn't able to get home? 

"Tom," Hal said, when he hadn't replied, "Please do not see any of what has happened as a failure on your part. I do not see how you could have possibly done more than you have." 

There wasn't any time to tell Hal he could think of about a dozen ways he could have done better, as Andy's voice came from down the hall. "Tom? Tom where are you?"

"I'd better go," Tom said, getting up. "I'll think about what yer said. I ain't sure yer right, but I'll still think about it." Then opening the door called back, "I'm coming. Be there in a minute." 

"Where were you?" Andy asked, sounding afraid, as Tom let himself back into their room. 

"I just went to talk to Hal about staying for a couple more days, just while we get things sorted," Tom said, sitting down next to him. "He said we could. Hal's a top bloke."

"But I want to go home," Andy said, looking warily round the room. "Back to the farm. Back to it just being us. I'll be okay then. Well not okay, but I can't stay here."

"Just for tonight, just until we know," Tom said. "I don't think you wanna be driving just yet anyway, and I've not driven the land rover that far before." He was fairly certain he could if he had to, but there was nowhere for them to both safely change at the farm, and if Andy stayed human he'd be on his own all night. No, staying put for a few more hours was better, he told himself. 

Andy frowned like he didn't quite understand and then curled back under the covers. 

It wasn't the reaction that Tom had been hoping for and he lay down next to him. "I dunno what's goin' on in that head of yours, but I wanna help and I can't unless you tell me what's wrong?" 

"If it was that simple, don't you think I'd do it?" Andy said, not looking at him.

"I didn't say it were simple, an' I don't think it is, not if it's doing this to yer." Tom put an arm across him, hoping he would move closer. "I know yer wanna go home and we will, whatever happens I'm gonna stay with yer."

Andy made a noise too close to a sob for comfort and Tom curled against him. "I know I ain't helped you as much as I should an' I've probably made things a lot worser than they coulda bin, but I promise I'll help yer get happier again. I promise, but I think it's more than I can do." He swallowed down his own fear as best he could. "I know yer don't like talkin' about what happened between leaving the police and getting to Cwm Elan, but I know you said that you were feeling pretty bad about everything. So I just wondered if there were something that they gave yer or said to yer or did, that maybe yer need now? 'Cause whatever it is I'll make sure you get it." 

"They'll take me away or you," Andy said, grabbing hold of his hand. "You said it, werewolves have to hide, to be safe. I can't let them do it."

"Martha knows what I am," Tom said, "And she still reckoned there was somebody I could talk to. Maybe they have special people who know all this weird stuff. I mean she is doctor, she'd know who we could talk to about stuff like this. And she did a really good job on your arm. It'd be okay." 

Andy shook his head and said, "I don't know. I can't think. I'm tired. I'm too tired." 

He wasn't going to win this one tonight, Tom decided, maybe if Andy did get a bit more sleep they could talk about it again in the morning. He wasn't going to stop asking, he was certain that doing so would be the worst thing he could do. He'd seen what had happened to George after Nina had been killed, and while it wasn't the same thing, he knew a person's mind could do things to them just as terrible as vampires could. 

"Alright," Tom said, and gave him a kiss. "It's bin a long day. You're right, I should get some rest and all." 

***

Morning came too soon, and while Andy did get up and have breakfast with him downstairs, Andy had left most of his untouched and had soon afterwards retreated back to bed. Arguing with him about it didn't seem like it would gain anything apart from hurt feelings for them both and probably make things about ten times worse than they already were. 

Hal had gone to work, telling him that he'd be back before moonrise and he'd do what he could to help. Tom wasn't sure what that would actually be, but he thanked him anyway. With Hal gone and Andy apparently asleep, he had tried to watch TV, but nothing caught his attention or distracted him from what might happen in a few short hours time. 

There was quiet pop and Alex appeared on the sofa next to him. "I know you probably don't want to talk about stuff, I know what men are like," she said, "I grew up with brothers remember. I don't know if I'll be any help either, but...." she stopped. "I should just say it, shouldn't I? Are you okay?" 

Tom thought for a moment and decided that lying probably wouldn't help, plus lying wasn't a nice thing to do in the first place. Especially not to ladies, his dad had been clear on that. Although mostly, Tom had come to realise, McNair had meant lying to him was wrong, as they'd had to lie loads to other people just to survive. 

"Tom?" Alex said, sounding worried now. "Hey, it'll be okay. Whatever happens, right? There are lots of worse things than ending up like you." 

"I don't know," Tom replied. Not looking at her he picked at the frayed edge of one of the cushions on the sofa. "I dunno what to do. I talked to Hal last night and he said just give it time, but what if waiting makes it all worse? what if it gets so bad I can't fix it?"" 

"You're talking about Andy, aren't you?" she said. "And it's not the will he or won't he be a werewolf tonight thing that's eating you, is it?"

"He's not well, he gets all sad and scared, even when stuff ain't that bad." Tom closed his eyes. It didn't feel right talking about him like this, but if it helped Andy get better, he decided that it was going to have to matter how he felt to him. "I'd not realised how bad it'd got, but now I have and I think I want him to talk to a doctor or something, because I dunno what else to do. But I can't do anythin' until I know if he's gonna change or not. And he's scared of talking to anybody about it, and he might be right about that, and even when I 'm trying to help I might still be making it all worse." 

"Oh Tom." Alex put an arm around him. "Whatever happens you've always got us. I'd say you can call me anytime, but the whole no presence on electronic stuff...well it's crap for keeping in touch. I suppose I could be the first texting ghost. Or emails. Even Hal's getting into the 20th century with technology. You should see how focused he gets playing Tetris." 

"What's that?" Tom said, "Is it something for cleaning or ?"

"It's a computer game were you fit all these tiny blocks together to make straight lines." 

It didn't sound all that fun, but if it kept Hal distracted or had become part of his routine then it had to be a good thing. 

"I know you probably don't want to think about it," Alex said, "but if you and Andy are going to change tonight, where are you going to do it?"

"We dunno if he is gonna change," Tom said. Hal had seemed fairly sure that he wasn't and Andy didn't seem to be any different, but they still couldn't risk it happening somewhere insecure. "I can't be in with him in case he don't change, 'cause that'd be really bad." 

Alex thought for a moment and then said, "What about Andy changes or not in the cellar and you go out to the woods?"

"But then he'd have to do it all by himself, and I don't want him to have to do it all by himself." The idea of Andy suffering through the transformation alone and scared was too much. Leaning forward, Tom covered his face with his hands. 

"I wasn't going to suggest this before as well I didn't think you'd want to be locked up or anything, but you could use Hal's cage, if you wanted." 

Tom looked up. "Why does Hal have a cage? He's not gone all grr-arg again has he?"

"Nope, so don't you go worrying about that," she said. "It was for another werewolf we had staying with us for a while. Rook dropped him off here hoping you'd look after him." 

"Rook came back here?" Tom said, not sure if he was worried or annoyed that nobody had thought to mention it to him before. "And what happened to the other werewolf." 

"Nothing bad. It was only a temporary thing. We didn't know it at the time, which is why Hal got the cage. Apparently Rook's department got shut down. He didn't want anything bad happening to Bobby, so he brought him here." 

He'd not really known much about Rook, apart from the fact that he seemed pretty cold and heartless about pretty much everything. "I 'spose there has to be a bit of good in everyone somewhere."

"Any way," Alex continued. "It turns out that his department got a bit of a reprieve and got merged with something called UNIT. So he got his job back sort of, he's not in charge of anything now, any how he came to collect Bobby. It must be six months ago now." 

"So he's okay? Rook didn't do owt weird to him?"

"Not apart from asking Hal to try and get Bobby a job at the hotel. Hal didn't as the only job Bobby might have had a chance of doing was kitchen porter and couldn't just sack the staff they'd got to give the guy a job." She got up off the sofa. "So do you want to come and have a look at the cage, just to make sure it'll be okay?" 

Want, no, but Tom nodded as there wasn't anything to be gained from not doing it and a lot that could go wrong if it wasn't suitable and he left it to late to find it out. 

The cellar was how Tom remembered it; cold whitewashed walls, a stone floor and nothing breakable. What was new what the metal barred cage that occupied about a third of it. Walking over to it, Tom felt a shiver of fear run through him. This soon after having been locked in by Audrey and her vampires and being made to fight getting shut in another cage was the last thing he wanted to do, but there really wasn't any alternative.   
He could hardly shut Andy in the cage, as if Andy didn't change he'd have to stay locked in with him until the moon. 

Tom inspected the door to the cage, where it was held closed with a large padlock which fastened together a length of heavy duty chain. There's be no way he'd be able to break out of there. He'd be safe in the cage and Andy would be safe in the room, and able to got back up the steps and back to the house if he didn't change. This was the best solution, he told himself, it was only for tonight.

"So what do you think?" Alex said. First appearing inside the cage and then vanishing, before appearing back next to him. 

"It's pretty good, how did Hal know where to get one? Or don't I wanna know?" 

"The internet. It was time he joined the 21st century," Alex replied. "The delivery and installation guy gave him a weird look when Hal said it was for when he had a friend staying. 

"Did he think Hal were kidnapping people or something?" The last thing they needed was the police to raid the house or something. 

Alex shook her head. "I think he decided Hal was into some seriously kinky sex and was making his own dungeon. That Hal answer the door topless and wearing rubber gloves, well I don't think the guy had installed anything so fast in is life." 

"Why'd people want to be together like that in a cage?" Tom said surprised. "I meant it ain't gonna be very comfortable." He looked at the cage, really not getting it. "So do they lock both of themselves in or what? What'd they do if they lost the key?"

Alex laughed. "Some people like playing out stories, fantasies and the like. They want a bit of excitement in their lives."

"I get enough of stuff like that in real life and it ain't ever any fun." Tom frowned. Some days he thought he'd just never understand normal people. He turned away from the cage. "Well I'd better go and tell Andy about where'll be changing tonight."

Andy was asleep when he got to their room, so after deciding not to wake him, Tom went back down stairs and tried to distract himself by watching the TV again. Nothing was particularly interesting and after a couple of hours he'd almost decided to go up and check on Andy again when he heard footsteps on the stairs. Definitely Andy. 

"Do you want a cup of tea? " Tom called out.

"Don't bother making one just for me," Andy said, still sounding exhausted as he came into the room.

"I ain't had one for ages either. We could both do with it." Tom got up from the sofa. "It'll only take me a minute." 

Andy nodded in reply and then sat down, while Tom hurried into the kitchen and switched the kettle on. 

"I were talking to Alex earlier, and I've sorted out where I can change tonight," Tom said, sitting back down next to him. "We can go down to the cellar and I'll use Hal's cage to change in and you can stay in the rest of the cellar and when you don't change you can just come back up here. Hal and Alex said they'd keep yer company, well if you want any. I mean you probably should, 'cause it'll be weird watching me change and I want you to be okay." 

Tom put an arm around him when Andy didn't answer or question any of the details. "It's gonna be okay. It will, I promise. It's totally safe down there, nobody'll get hurt or anything. I mean it. We'll be okay."

Andy nodded faintly and then sighed. "I'm being useless, aren't it? You done all this and I've done nothing."

"No yer not." Tom took hold of his hand. "You've bin great. All this and me being an idiot about it, it'd be a bit much for anyone."

Andy didn't look convinced, but curled against him with his head on Tom shoulder. Wishing he knew what to do to help, Tom flicked through the TV channels until he found something that he knew that Andy usually watched. It wasn't a solution, but maybe it would help a little to take his mind off tonight. 

Moonrise was early in the evening this month and as the shadows started to lengthen outside Tom could feel the first twinges of the change beginning to stir. There was no point taking Andy down to the cellar yet, he told himself as the familiar prickle of something like pins and needles started low in his back. It was cold and time would drag, leaving too much space for worry to creep in. 

He moved on the sofa, trying to get comfortable. "How yer feeling?" 

"I don't know?" Andy seemed to think again for a moment then added, "Cold, I think."

"Nothing else?" Tom asked wanting to take it a positive sign Andy wouldn't change.

"No. I don't know." Andy reached out and took hold of Tom's hand. "Should there be? I mean if...if it's going to happen?" 

"I'd have thought so, but I dunno, I ain't been there when anybody changed for the first time." Tom looked down at their hands. If they could sort things out one day, hopefully sooner rather than later, there would be wedding rings there. He held on tightly. "I reckon it's a good sign. It'll be okay. Whatever happens it'll be okay." 

Andy didn't look like he believed it, but replied, "If you say so." 

Sleeping didn't seem to have helped, Tom decided, but it telling Andy that seemed like a bad plan. So instead he said, "There's a new program about fixing up old cars on now, shall I keep it on that or find a quiz or something?" 

"Whatever you want," Andy said, curling against him and closing his eyes again.

Later, when moonrise little more than fifteen minutes away, Tom knew he couldn't distract himself with television or delay going down to the cellar any longer and he got up from the sofa. Pain seemed to crawl through every bone and nerve, but years of practice meant that for now at least he could hide it. 

Was this how it had been for his dad? He'd always stayed as late as he could outside the van when he'd been a kid, never letting the pain show, being brave for him, giving him hope that as he got older he'd be able to control the pain too. It was his turn to be brave now, Tom told himself. He held out a hand to Andy. "Right, I think we'd better go downstairs now."

Andy's eyes were wide and fearful as he silently took his hand, and then followed him out the room and down to the cellar.

"Is that for me?" Andy asked warily once they were looking at the cage.

"Me," Tom replied leading him over to it. "I'm gonna change in there, so when you stay as yer are you'll be safe. Alex'll come down here once the moons up and let yer out. It's gonna be okay."

"Is it?" Andy said, shivering in the chill room. "It doesn't feel like." He looked at the cage again and blinked. "Why is there a cage?" 

"It were just for when Hal and Alex had another werewolf staying," Tom replied. He paused as he pulled his t-shirt off, letting the material hide the pain he couldn't quite keep from his face. "You should probably get undressed an' all just in case you change. You don't wanna rip yer clothes up." 

Andy looked around the bare, cold room and shivered again, before doing as Tom had suggested. 

Picking up their clothes, Tom put them in the pile just outside the cellar door. Then, with a last look back up the steps to the house, he shut and then turned the key in the lock. He leant against the wall for a moment, teeth gritted, before making his way over to the cage and getting in. 

The clang as it closed, the rattle of the chains being threaded through the bars and the clunk as the padlock closed and locked him in were more frightening than Tom had thought they would be. If it weren't for Andy's safety, Tom knew that he'd never allow himself to be caged like this. Never again he, told himself. After tonight never again. 

Yet what if Andy did change? Tom wondered. Could he deal with seeing Andy in that amount of pain every month, knowing that he was to blame? Would he even be there to see it? Andy would surely turn on him, be furious with him, maybe tell him to get out of his life after tonight should the worst happen.

Wrapped in an old blanket that had been left in the room, Andy looked cold and scared, but not in any pain. Tom closed his eyes, trying to ride out a fresh spike of pain without worrying him. It was getting harder to remain silent and Tom turned away, biting down on the side of his hand in an attempt to keep quite. There were tears on his face and blood on his hand before it receded enough to let him think again. 

"Tom?" Andy had come over to the cage and was kneeling down. He put a hand through the bars. "Tom? Are you still you?"

"Yeah, but don't touch me," Tom panted, moving further back into the cage. "Can't put your hand in here. If you're not....." Something shifted and ripped inside as muscles started to move and Tom cried out, unable to keep silent any longer. He felt teeth and nails start to lengthen, and he was sure his eyes had changed too. 

A moment later, Andy jumped back, eyes fearful as he retreated to the corner furthest from the cage. Curling into a ball on the floor, Tom closed his eyes, unable to watch the growing look of terror on Andy face, knowing that he was the cause of it. It was far worse, he decided as conscious thought fled, than anything the transformation could ever make him feel. 

******

"Tom? Thomas?" 

There was a cold hand on his shoulder and the smell of vampire. Tom leapt to his feet, nearly pushing Hal over as he did. Andy was nowhere to be seen. "What's happened?" Tom asked, suddenly fearful of what had gone on after he'd changed. 

"Andy didn't change. He is upstairs waiting for you. Alex is with him," Hal said turning his back so that Tom could get dressed. "I came to bring you your clothes."

"Oh, right." There was a brief moment of relief at the knowledge that Andy remained as human as when he first met him, followed by the crushing memory of how Andy had looked at him as he'd changed. Tom closed his eyes and swallowed hard. He wanted to blame the sick feeling on not having thought to bring anything to eat into the cellar for once he'd changed, but he knew that it wasn't. He'd let Andy see the whole transformation and now nothing could ever be the same. 

He should have told Andy to leave the cellar before the change was complete, once it had got to the point it had at the farm when he'd fled to the coal shed. If Andy had been going to change there would have been signs by then. He'd been the only one stupid enough to think Andy was going to change in the first place and now he'd screwed everything up even worse than it had been before. All Andy would see when he looked at him now was monster. Everything came down to it being his fault, all the mistakes and missed chances were down to the fact that he was too thick to do anything right. 

"Tom?" Hal's hand was on his shoulder again. "Is something the matter?" 

"Yeah, but not me. I mean I don't matter. It's Andy, I just want him to be happy and..and..." Tom stopped and turned away. He knew what he should do, it wouldn't make things right, but it would give Andy a chance at a normal life again. He'd done it for Allison, he'd let her go. He could do it again. "I should tell him that us...that all of it, trying to get married at an' me pretending to be normal, that it were all a mistake. 'Cause if I stay all this'll happen again and again and one day it'll be even worse than this and I can't do that to him, even if he still wants me around. It'd just be being selfish and I can't do to that to him, I can't do..." 

"Stop. Tom, stop." Hal moved round in front of him and handed him a handkerchief. "You are imagining the worst. After all that Andy told us last night I cannot believe that he would not want to take that risk to remain with you and to keep the life you have built together."

"But he shouldn't have t' risk anythin'" Tom said wiping his eyes. "I shouldn't have stayed with him so long or after he found out what I am. It'll go wrong, 'cause it always does and everyone I knows dies, me dad, George, Nina, Annie and little Eve, all of them. It were only luck that Alex ended up as ghost rather than properly dead. And what if anything happens to him and it's my fault? I don't think I can do it, Hal, I can't stay, but I can't go either. I'm scared." 

"Things may go wrong if you stay together, none of us can see the future and I can't tell you that there won't heartbreak or tragedy if you remain with him." Hal looked steadily at him. "It is however only a possibility, if you were to part now based on such a fear for the future I would think that it would be a certainty for you both." 

"So you think I should stay?" Tom said, starting to pull on his clothes. "Is that what you'd do?"

"Our lives are not easy. You have found happiness, do not throw it away out of fear." Hal moved closer to him. "If I had your love in that way that you love Andy there would be no power on this Earth that I would allow to come between us." 

Nobody did scarily intense quite like Hal, Tom thought, taking half a step back. He must have been truly frightening when he was being all vampiry with it. He was right about Andy, in his heart Tom knew it, there was no way he could bring himself to walk away. 

Hal gave him an encouraging smile. "It think it is time you went and told your young man that everything is alright. And that he can stop worrying about you. I can tidy up here." 

"Thanks. I mean it, I ain't good with stuff like this." 

"I believe this is where I should say 'what are friends for?' or at least I think that is how people express the sentiment these days."

"Hal," Tom said pausing on the steps out of the cellar. "I didn't ask before, but what happened to Larry? I mean after I ran off? How'd you get him to leave?" 

There was a small smile on his face when Hal answered, and it was anything but kind. "I didn't give him the option of staying."

Tom decided that he didn't want to know exactly what Hal had threatened Larry with, that he'd gone would have to be enough. He wasn't going to waste any more time thinking about Larry, he told himself and hurried off to find Andy. 

 

TBC 

A/N  
So much for getting this part posted before Christmas, I ended up not having any time to write for about the best part of a fortnight in the end. Well here it is at last and things are slowly sorting themselves out for Tom and Andy. I'm hoping to get the next part up in the next couple of weeks as some of it is already written.


	39. Chapter 39

It had been a long night, but sleep was far from Andy's thoughts as he sat on the sofa with Alex, waiting for Hal to return with Tom. They'd spent much of those long hours until dawn talking: About what was on the TV, about Tom's and his life on the farm, about living at Honolulu Heights and the sort of things that they had done when Tom had lived there with them. What there hadn't been was any answers about how he could see ghosts wasn't a werewolf, vampire or ghost himself. 

But that was life, wasn't it? It rarely came with answers that neatly wrapped everything up and let you move on. Hal seemed reasonably certain that there had always been the occasional normal human who could see ghosts. Every other village seemed to have somebody who was rumoured to have second sight when I was growing up, Hal had informed them. Before adding that if the gift or curse depending on how you saw it, was present in the same percentage of population as it had been then that there would likely be dozen or more in Barry Island alone with the ability. Cardiff would have even more. 

Most of what had been said had barely sunk in, although Andy did appreciate the fact that they were trying to help him. Whether they were well meaning lies he had no way of telling. His mind had been and still was full of what he had seen in the cellar. It had been one thing to hear Tom transforming from the other side of a locked door as he had back at Cwm Elen Farm at few months before or seeing the fully changed werewolf just four weeks ago; seeing the whole process up close had been something else entirely. Terrifying was probably the most accurate way to sum it up, yet fear hadn't been what he'd taken away from it, at least not fear of what Tom was. It was fear for him; How many times could a body be subjected to such pain and survive?

Not that pain seemed to be an adequate word to describe what Tom had suffered. Andy closed his eyes, knowing he would never forget what he'd seen. He knew from patching Tom up and from how he recovered from getting hurt just how high his tolerance to pain was. The transformation had been nothing less than bone-breaking agony. The knowledge that Tom had endured this every four weeks since he was a toddler and would continue to for the rest of his life, brought tears to his eyes. It was too horrible to think about, yet there was no way of wiping the image of Tom crying out, his body twisting and changing as the bones broke and reformed. 

"Hey," Alex said, prodding his arm. "You okay? You've gone pretty quiet."

Andy didn't open his eyes, just replied unsteadily. "Thinking. I'm just thinking." 

"It probably won't help to say this," she said, sounding less upbeat than she'd done for most of the night. "But sometimes it's best not to think. I know it's not the same thing, me ending up being a ghost, but when it first happened I didn't know what to do or what I wanted. I mean I'd have liked to have gone back to being alive, but that wasn't happening, and then all I wanted was for my door to appear, to not have to stay and watch the world change without me." Alex sighed. "And after meeting a ghost who'd been around for a few centuries and was who was pretty much bat-shit crazy I just about convinced myself that I wanted it all to be over." 

Andy opened his eyes. Alex had seemed far too alive to be a ghost, it didn't seem right that she should have to deal with feeling like this as well as being dead and invisible to the world.

Alex's smile wasn't exactly false, but it was certainly a bit wobbly. "But things weren't so bad after a while. I missed Tom like mad, because Hal, well he's nice, but it was kind of his fault I died in the first place and he's not always the easiest person to live with. I think we get on better now or at least we know not to wind each other up so much. Anyway I suppose what I'm saying is life can be a bit shit sometimes, but then good things happen, even if you don't realise they are good at the time and somehow you decided you want to get on with living again, rather than just sitting round waiting for it all to end." 

Andy nodded unable to find words. It was getting through that part where nothing felt like it was ever going to be good again, when you just wanted to hide from the world or worse. That was indescribably difficult to do and to get people who'd not been there to understand. 

"Don't tell Tom or Hal," Alex said, smile dropping for a moment. "I've told you this because...well you get it, and more than that, I think you need to hear it, that you can get out the other side of it." 

"Tom gets it too," Andy said, knowing all the guilt, self-doubt and feelings of not being good enough that Tom carried so well hidden inside. "I don't know how he does it, how he's so strong about it all, how he keeps going after all he's been through. I couldn't do it without him. I don't think I'd still be here without."

"You would," Tom said, walking into the living room. "But I don't want yer to have to, I mean unless yer want me to go or owt. 'Cause after seeing what I am, if yer don't want me around or marry me I'd understand."

"Of course I do," Andy said, puzzled at what he'd said or done that would make Tom think he was having second thoughts. "I want you here, I don't want you to go. I've never wanted that. I never will."

"An' I won't, I promised." Tom wrapped his arms round him. "I ain't gonna go. It's were just if you had wanted me to, I would've for you." 

And you'd break your heart to do it if you thought it would make me happy, Andy thought. He didn't deserve him, and although it hurt to admit it, he knew he'd never be able to make the same selfless gestures that seemed to be second nature to Tom. Closing his eyes, he leant against him. "I know you would."

"Do you want me to go and find Hal? Or you know, just let you two have a moment?" Alex said.

Before Andy could say that he didn't know and as Tom said, "If that'd be okay." Hal appeared. He looked at Tom and Andy, before turning to Alex and asking, "All is well then?" 

"Looks that way," she replied, sounding as relieved as Hal looked. 

"Can I ask Hal now, about the wedding stuff?" Tom said, sounding uncertain if he should let go of Andy even for a moment. "It's okay?" 

Andy nodded, starting to feel overwhelmed again now everybody was in the room and looking at him. Hopefully Tom would be able to answer any of questions that they had. It needed to be done, he told himself, once everything was back on track with their lives and the wedding he'd feel better. The fleeting positive thoughts turned bitter as soon as Tom let go of his hand, doubt rushing back in like a rip tide. Things might be better for a while, but then he'd screw it up or there'd be some other disaster and everything would be ruined, and it would all be his fault because it always was. 

"Hal, before all this stuff happened, with thinking I might have made Andy like me there were something I were gonna ask yer," Tom said, walking over to him. "You've heard me and Andy are gonna get married soon as we can sort out how we can do it and when his brother gets back from being in the Navy. So from what I've found out any man getting married normally has a best man. I haven't got anybody else to ask, and even if I did I'd rather it were you. So if you don't mind I'd like yer to be mine. My best man that is." 

"Thomas, it would be an honour..." Hal began, then stopped as Tom hugged him. 

"Yer won't regret it. I mean there won't be loads of people there and it'll be at a hotel, so it won't be all weird for you with crosses and stuff, like if it were a church or something," Tom said. Then seeming to realise he was still hugging Hal, and that he looked surprised and a little uncomfortable, Tom let him go. 

It was hard to find the same enthusiasm that Tom had or really any at all, Andy realised as he sat on the arm of the sofa, where he'd retreated to shortly after Hal had appeared. He frowned. That was wrong, that wasn't how it should be at all. He should be excited too, he should be up on his feet, smiling and laughing with them. He wanted to be happy. Why couldn't he be happy? What the hell was wrong with him? Why, now he knew that he wasn't going to change, wasn't everything okay again?

Because that was never the problem, it was only a small part of it, the part that had pushed him too far. It was a simple answer, and Andy wondered why it had taken so long for it to filter through. Probably because his mind was his own worst enemy for the moment, he decided. It was all too easy fall into the trap of fooling himself that he was just a bit down because of the possible werewolf thing, because of all that had happened recently. It was also frighteningly easy to get to the point where there seemed like there was nothing and nobody that could or would be able to help. 

He had to do something about it, he told himself although it made him feel sick at the thought of it. He had to because feeling like he had been, having that feeling of formless, unfounded dread hanging over him every day was no way to live a life. It wasn't even living, it was barely surviving. Things couldn't go on like that. Tom was right, he needed help. 

"Andy? I said what do you think?" Tom asked, putting his hand on Andy’s knee to get his attention.

Andy blinked, knowing that he'd missed whatever it was. "Sorry, I didn't hear you. I was thinking about things, about what you said yesterday."

"Oh right. I just were just saying to Hal that we'd be getting married somewhere in Wales and that we'd bin thinking of having in September. I were just checkin' it really were September and that you hadn't said it were after September when James got back. " Tom stopped, frowned and then added, "What were I said yesterday?" 

"That there are a few things I should do," Andy said, taking hold of Tom's hand, but still not able to admit publicly exactly what he meant. "People to call, like Martha or Gwen. You were right, I need to do it sooner rather than later. I've left it too long really. I'll do it when we get home. I promise." 

Tom gave his hand a squeeze. "Do you wanna to go home now then?" 

Andy nodded, then felt bad about it. Tom hadn't seen his friends in over a year and here he was wanting him to leave after just a few hours or was it days? Not knowing was rather frightening, and he said uncertainly. "I mean we can stay longer if you want, I'll be okay. It was September, after the fifteenth I think. I need to check." 

"They'll understand," Tom said, moving close to him. 

"Of course we do," Alex said, giving Hal a look that said don't you dare contradict me. "We can have a night in," said turning to Hal. "I can have another go at explaining modern stuff to you and you can.... I don't know tell me about how you used to ride a horse or something. 

Hal looked baffled, but agreed with her. Turning to Tom he said, "I expect you wish some privacy to talk after all that has happened. So I will wish you a safe journey home and if you need any assistance in choosing attire for the wedding I will be happy to assist." 

"Don't leave it so long to visit again," Alex said giving each of them a hug. "I meant it."

"We won't," Tom said, then looking at Andy said, "Well I'll try not to, but it'll depend on stuff. I mean like the farm, there's a lot of work and things and... I should probably just stop talking, right?"

"I know what you mean," Alex replied. "So both you take care of yourself and just take it easy, alright?" 

Hal shook their hands. "If there is ever anything you need, please contact us. While there is still the issue of visibility on modern technology, I have found that mobile phones can send written messages and they are very popular method of communication, especially at work." 

"I didn't know you had a phone," Tom said. "Can you do them email things?"

Hal nodded. "Yes. It seems to be the only way to organise people at work and obtain new guests. It is no substitute for a hand written letter, but I do find them preferable to texting messages. The space to use correct punctuation is most welcome." 

"He had to join the 21st Century some time," Alex said. 

"I do better than most my age with technology," Hal replied.

"Most people your age have been dead for four hundred years," Alex pointed out, more joking than anything. "So I use a computer better than a century old dead guy isn't really saying much."

"See what I live with," Hal said, trying and failing to sound put upon. "People in my day used to show respect." 

They were alright for ghosts and vampires, Andy decided as he and Tom left. It was good to know that Tom had people like them that he could rely on if anything happened. 

“Did you mean what you said about calling Gwen or someone about things?” Tom asked, once they were far enough from the house for Alex and Hal not to hear. "I mean I know you probably did when you were in there, but once we get home, you still will won't you?"

"I'll try, but if I don't," Andy said, moving in front of him. The fear that he'd fail, that he'd lose everything, lose Tom, made is heart hammer until he was half certain the whole street could hear it. "I want you to call them for me. To tell them what I've been like. I'm not good enough for you, but I don't want to drive you away, lose you. And don't tell me you won't go, because I don't want you to stay and be miserable with me. I can say some awful things and you shouldn't have to live with that."

Tom closed his eyes for a moment, looking worn out. "I don't like it when you say how rubbish you think you are, 'cause ain't to me, but I think I get it. So I'll help you any way you want or need, but I won't go, no matter what you say or do."

Andy nodded. He wasn't quite sure if he believed it, but he wanted to and that would have to do. Actually having hope for the further, as faint as it was, was far better than dread that it would only ever get worse than had been slowly consuming him. 

"Do you mind if drive?" Tom asked as they reached the land rover. "I mean you're always saying I need the practice and stuff."

Andy wasn't sure that he'd ever actually said that or if he had whether he'd meant it kindly or not but not having to drive sounding like good plan, so he nodded and let Tom get in the driver's seat. He'd have to sort out getting a licence for Tom to drive legally, as although Tom claimed to have a provisional licence not long after they had met, he wasn't sure that was actually the truth. It was just a technically Andy told himself, closing his eyes and leaning back in his seat. They'd faced far worse together than a driving test.

It was a slow and slightly roundabout route back to the Elen Valley as Tom avoided main roads and rigorously stuck to about five miles an hour less than the speed limit. Finally as they turned on to the track that lead back up farm Andy felt some of the tension ebb away. 

Looking out of the window at the sunlit valley and the clouds racing overhead, no other sign of civilisation around them, he gave a sign of relief. As much as he wanted to Andy knew couldn't hide from the world here forever, but with help hopefully he could get himself to a point where he'd be able to go out and deal with it on his own terms again. He owed it to Tom and to himself as well to at least try. 

 

TBC

Long time no posting. Sorry about that, no good excuses, beyond getting distracted with original fic and just not finding time to write/edit. I've not given up on this and it will post the end sooner rather than later, I promise. I've had to alter round a couple of things in the last few parts (including rewriting a whole section from Andy's POV rather than Tom's. Consequently the number of parts has changed from 40 to 42, although they all will be around 3k each rather than the 6-7k that last few have been. So I'm hoping to get back to weekly posting for these last few parts.


	40. Chapter 40

It had been a strange few months, Andy thought as he walked down to the end of the farm track to collect the post, the warm summer sun shining down thought the leaves. Things were getting better, not to say he didn't get bad days, but they were getting less frequent and none of them quite rivalled just how awful he'd felt in the few weeks either side of the vampire situation. 

He'd talked to Gwen, then to Martha who'd got him in contact with a counsellor who UNIT used for their personnel. An ex-military man, he had been about as far from the well meaning but painfully young woman who'd seemed barely older than a school leaver who'd worked for the Police's Occupational Health Department as it was possible to get. That had been a positive. As had the fact he could be totally up front about everything with him, regardless of whether it was vampires, aliens, werewolves, his mother and or the people he'd worked with who'd made him feel like he should do them all a favour a rid the world of hiss presence. There was definitely something to be said for having a counsellor who'd once shot aliens for a living and who's counselling sessions were covered by the Official Secrets Act. 

There were still sources of unhappiness. His mother's refusal to even acknowledge the wedding invitation and David's response, telling him that he wanted no part of his sordid life and would not normalise or condone two men getting married to his young daughters. He'd ended up taking the letter to his next counselling session to show that some parts of his family really were as bad as he said they were and that it wasn't him imagining the worst about them. Chris, his counsellor, had been deeply unimpressed with their treatment of him, and somehow it made it easier to be angry with them, knowing that his reaction and hurt to it was a reasonable response. 

Fortunately his other brothers, James and Simon said that they'd come. Simon with his family and James with a possible plus one. Team Torchwood and Rhys had all agreed to come, as had Hal, Alex and even Great Aunt Edith who'd said she'd be delighted to come and that if possible she'd love to see how the farm was. With the guests all invited they had booked a hotel just outside Brecon for both the ceremony and the reception.   
The only thing left to arrange was getting a registrar to come out to the hotel and actually marry them. 

Through it all Tom had been there, helping when needed and stepping back when he needed space. 

"Much post today?" Tom asked. 

"A few bits. There's one for you," Andy said trying to sound casual about it, just in case he was wrong and it wasn't Gwen having sorted out a birth certificate good enough to pass for the real thing with the Head Registrar. He knew they were cutting it fine now with late September little more than eight weeks away, but then that seemed to be the Torchwood way. 

He dumped his post on the table, it was fairly boring. A bank statement, a circular from the company that had fitted the solar panels seeing if he wanted any more and a piece of junk mail from a mobile phone company who you couldn't even get coverage with in their area. Normal, modern life, in all its wonderful dullness. 

Tom looked round from where he was sorting through some pieces of wood that he'd collected that morning before trying to decide what to make with them. "Who's it from?" he asked.

Andy didn't bother to hide a smile. "Why don't you just open it?"

"You know what it is," Tom said getting up and taking the envelope from him. 

Andy laughed ass Tom opened it and when he saw the notepaper with a stylised T and hexagon logo on it. For a secret organisation Torchwood weren't exactly subtle. 

There was just a short note on the paper. To Tom and Andy. Think of this as an early wedding present. I hope that what we've done is alright, I thought that Tom would want Anthony McNair down officially as his father. From Gwen and your friends in Cardiff. 

With the letter where two certificates, a DNA test result and a small, sealed envelope. Tom looked at them baffled for a moment. The birth certificate had no names listed, the registrar at a hospital in Derby noting that Tom had been found. The DNA test result claimed that Anthony Michael McNair was his father, while the last certificate claimed that McNair had officially adopted him as it was the only way by law for him to recognised as the father as he wasn't on the birth certificate. 

"I don't understand," Tom said eventually, "None of this is right. McNair weren't really my dad, not like that, so how'd they make it say that? I would have wanted him to be, but..." He stopped and looked at the sealed envelope. "What do you think's in here?"

"I don't know," Andy said. What Gwen had sorted out was far beyond what he had expected, and while he thought that it was a nice idea, the confusion on Tom's face really didn't make it look like he appreciated it.   
"But the rest of it. This is real now, I mean if you want it to be. This will be what's in the official records. They can do that, Torchwood, they can do pretty much what they want. If you don't want this, we can always call Gwen and..."

"No," Tom said hurriedly. "No, don't. I just didn't expect any of this. Getting married can really happen now, can't it? I mean this is the last bit of stuff we need." 

Andy nodded, relieved at how Tom's eyes seemed to light up at that. "I suppose we'd better open the other envelope," he said, wondering if perhaps it was something like a national insurance number. That would make sense with the official existence of Tom. 

It wasn't. That much was clear by the way Tom stared at it, his eyes suddenly glassy with tears. 

"Tom?" Andy said suddenly fearful at just what had been written inside. "What is it?" 

"It's about me dad," he replied, voice unsteady. "He had family. A mum. And she's still alive. I've got a gran. I've got family. I've never had a gran before. I mean I did, but didn't know it. He never said. Why didn't he tell me?"

"I don't know," Andy replied, moving closer to him. "Maybe she didn't know about him being a werewolf, and he wanted to keep it that way. He was trying to keep her safe."

Tom nodded looking thoughtful. "I hope so. I just don't want to go up there and find out they'd fallen out or owt, and she don't want to see me."

Finding out and maybe sending a letter was one thing, visiting and announcing yourself as a long lost grandson was very definitely another. It had the potential to go horribly wrong, and Andy briefly considered trying to talk him round to writing first, but he knew that it would almost certainly put Tom on the defensive, and the whole conversation would end up with Tom assuming he didn't want him to get in contact at all. 

"I mean I'd like her there when we get married, well if she wants to be," Tom said, before Andy had a chance to say that he thought that dropping in might not be the best plan. "And we have to do it soon because the hotel wants the final guest figures by the end of the week. And it'd be a long way for her to come if we left it late to tell her."

It still didn't feel right just turning up, but Andy said, "There is that. So where does she live?"

"Near Newcastle, I think. That's where Tyneside, ain't it?" 

That was a long way to drive on the off chance, a few hours at least. Perhaps they could phone ahead? Andy wondered, maybe that would be better. As it was the letter didn't provide a phone number. Whether that meant there was no phone or just that the line was ex-directory he didn't know. He thought about calling Gwen and seeing it she could try and find one, but after all that she'd done for them he didn't like asking for more, even thought he knew that she wouldn't mind. 

 

*****

 

Hebburn was about halfway between Newcastle and South Shields, although the area was so built up it was was hard to tell where one drifted into another. Row upon row of brick built terrace houses, once the homes of dock workers and now what was termed affordable housing, spread out from the now empty warehouses and wharves. Mrs McNair's house was in the middle of a row, with a view down the street to the Tyne in one direction of a large, mill chimney in the other. 

The door opened on a chain to reveal a small woman wearing a blue and white check house coat, her white hair pulled rather haphazardly into a set of mismatched curlers. She looked at them both with sharp blue eyes from behind rather oversized glasses. "I don't do business on the doorstep," she said firmly. "Charity, politics or religion neither. You can try number Sixty Seven if you want, if you're politics. Gloria likes a good argument, but you won't convince her of anything." 

"We're not any of those things," Andy said, seeing that Tom was staring. He nudged him. "You should be doing this. Telling her." 

Tom took a deep breath and moved forwards so that Mrs McNair could see him through the gap in the door. "I know this is gonna sound weird and Andy reckoned as I shoulda called you first, but I thought you'd not known for long enough..."

The door started to close and Tom's face fell, but moment later the chain rattled and the door opened fully. Mrs McNair stared at Tom. "This is about my Tony, isn't it?" she said, voice wavering now. 

Tom nodded, looking like he was going to cry. 

Mrs McNair nodded as well. Then moved aside. "You'd better come in. As I said, I don't do business on the doorstep. Nor bad news either." 

She showed them into her living room, which looked like it had last been properly decorated in the late Eighties with patterned wallpaper, as many pictures as you could feasibly hang and a collection of china ornaments, mostly spaniels, which seemed to occupy most spaces that weren't taken up with pot plants. 

You could take a person out of the police force, Andy thought as he looked round, but you couldn't take the copper out of them. There were plenty of old photos, probably her parents and possibly a brother or sister, there were plenty of boy and later young man who had to be McNair and a few group pictures that might have been taken on a work or social club's trip out. What there wasn't was a wedding photo or anything of her husband. She had definitely been listed as Mrs Mary McNair and he knew that Gwen would have checked McNair's birth certificate to make sure it was the right person. Everything said she'd cut her husband out of her life and she didn't want anything left to remind her of him. Whatever her reasons were they seemed to have been a long standing ones, and Andy decided it wasn't his place to ask. 

"So what happened?" she said, sitting down in the armchair by the fire place. "Why have you come and find me now? You're not the police I can see that."

"No, were not. Well Andy were once, but it's just that I've only just found out about you. I mean when me dad died I didn't know, but I should have thought about it and asked him. Well before what happened," Tom said, taking the letter and certificate out of his coat pocket. "I mean it were in a letter I got yesterday. I needed to get a copy of my birth certificate, and that was how I found out about you and...and I'm really sorry he's not here and that he's died 'cause I miss him and it must be as bad for you. Worse, 'cause you've not known and at least I did."

"You're Tony's son?" she said, staring at Tom again, tears in her eyes. "Why didn't he ever tell me? Why? Why's he dead?"

"I'm sorry," Tom said, starting to cry. "He couldn't say 'cause of what he was doing, what his job were, well it were sort of like a job and sort of like being undercover I 'spose. It were all a secret, it had to be. I'm sorry, I dunno what I can say, 'cause he's gone and I dunno why he never told me stuff. I wish he had." 

"What Tom's trying to say," Andy said, realising that Tom wasn't in the best state to explain anything coherently and that Mrs McNair needed answers, or at least as much as they could give. "Is that your son was a very brave man. Things happened and a result he was forced to completely abandon his old life. The one he lived, cut off from his past was only chosen by him to protect people, including you, from something that most of society barely realises exists. I can't give you the full details of what happened, there are a only a few government departments which the clearance to know, but Anthony lost his life making the world a safer place, both for his son and society. I never knew him, but knowing what I do from Tom, how much he sacrificed did to keep him safe, I would definitely shake his hand." 

"After twenty two years I never expected it to be..." she sniffed and took out a handkerchief. "I mean after that length of time..... he was never going to come home, was he? I mean I'd hoped... How long ago was it that... that he ..." She looked at Andy. "When?" 

"Just over two years." 

She nodded again. "All that time hiding. Oh Tony. My poor brave boy." 

Walking over to the fireplace, she took a photograph of McNair down from the mantelpiece. "You're so like him. When I saw you through the door, just for a moment... well I know my eyes aren't what they were, but all the same, I could see it. You're so like him." 

People could fool themselves in to thinking just about anything if they wanted it hard enough. Andy had seen it often enough with people who were witnesses or providing alibis. It was a reason why nine times out of ten physical evidence was better than what somebody thought they saw. 

McNair in the photograph seemed around the same age Tom was now. Just into his twenties, a cheeky spark of life in his very blue eyes. Okay, Tom's were brown, but if he looked long enough Andy knew he'd find himself believing it as well. In the end it wasn't like it mattered any way. Anthony McNair had as good as adopted Tom. What need had there been for a piece of paper to say it? Neither Tom or McNair from the sounds of things had considered it necessary. 

"Do you still have a mother?" she asked placing it back down. "I didn't know that Tony was seeing anybody when he disappeared, but it seems there's so much that I didn't know." 

Tom shook his head. "She died. I don't even remember her. I don't know anything about her. It were just me and me dad from when I were about one." 

"You poor boy," she said, "I wouldn't have minded whatever danger it was he thought there was, he should have come home. I would helped him, was too young to be stuck all alone with a little one. I..." She stopped. "I've not asked you your name yet, I'm sorry all this its been a bit much. All I were thinking I'd be doing this afternoon were going to the bingo with Margie and Bet. " 

"It's okay, and I'm Tom," Tom said, then looking at Andy added, "And that's Andy." 

"Tom." She smiled, happy and sad in the same moment. "He had a book when he was a boy about a Tom. Read it so many times it nearly fell apart. I can't count the number of times I taped it back together."

Tom managed a smile. "I always wondered why he picked Tom, didn't know if it were like a family name or something like it were his granddad. He didn't tell me much, not really. Not what were true.”

“It was to keep you all safe, I'm sure of it,” Andy said, trying to stop any bad feelings before they started. 

Tom sniffed and nodded. “I know, but I've missed so much. Not having a family.” He looks at Mrs McNair. "Look I know you've only just found out about me and stuff and I know it's a long way 'cause we live in Wales and that’s sort of like another country, and it has its own language and everything, but most people don't talk it much, so it's not a problem," Tom said, words running away with themselves as nerves set in. "But I should tell you why I were getting my birth certificate in the first place and it 'cause I'm gonna get married and I wanna invite you to the wedding 'cause you're all the family I've got." He paused for a moment, frowned and then said, "I mean I'd pay for yer to come, if you want to that is. So it's not that I've turned up for money or anything, 'cause I don't want you thinking that. Don't want anything like that.”

"I'm sure Mrs McNair doesn't think that," Andy said, taking hold Tom's hand and giving it a squeeze.

"Who's the lucky..." She stopped and looked at them and then shrugged. "I was going to say girl, but well times change don't they. I've seen it on the telly. So when it then?"

"Yer not angry?" Tom said barely sounding like he believed it could be going so well. 

"I thought I'd not got no family left in this world until half an hour ago," she said, taking out a handkerchief and wiping her eyes again. "It'll be like have two grandsons, that's all. Lots of people have grandsons, might not be many as are married to each other, but well you have to take happiness where you find it I says. And god knows it's better to be married for love than pushed into it for any other reason." 

Maybe that had been it, Andy realised. The reason behind the absence of Granddad McNair's picture. The marriage hadn't been for love and she didn't want to be reminded that he or the marriage existed at all. 

“When is the wedding?” She asked, “I don't know about what people do when it's not a church do. I've not been to a wedding in years.”

"September, and I think it's mostly the same. With rings and a cake and having yer friends and family there, and maybe a bit of dancing. We'll come up again before the wedding once we've got more stuff sorted ," Tom said, then glanced at Andy. "I mean, I could get a train or something, as it's a way to drive and you don't have to come, if yer busy." 

That wouldn't happen or at least not any time soon, Andy realised. As while he trusted Tom completely, the idea of him being gone for hours and being miles away from him still sent an uncomfortable jolt of fear through him. "Of course I'll drive us," Andy said quickly. “I'll be never too busy to take you were you need to go.”

"That's the sort of thing my Tony would have done, he never had any fear about any thing, he just get up and go,” she said. "You're a good lad. I can see it." She looked at Andy. "And he looks like a good one as well. Driving you up here, not many would just drop what they were doing and go." 

"He's the best," Tom said, smiling. "He's helped me so much, finding me a house and job and all that to start with. I mean that's how we met, he were fixing a roof and I were lost and stopped for directions and well I 'spose we just got along." 

"So is that what you do?" she asked. "Are you a builder? My Tony was a surveyor, he worked for one of those companies that build new houses." 

"No, a complete amateur as anybody whose seen me attempting DIY knows," Andy said finding it easiest to joke about his own lack of ability and hopefully make the situation a little easier. "I was renovating an old farm to turn into a campsite. So I suppose I'm technically a campsite owner or maybe a farmer, but I don't have any campers or animals."

"We will do one day," Tom said enthusiastically. "It might take a while, but we ain't in a hurry. Better to get it right the first time than have to do it twice. I remember me dad telling me that.” 

 

****

 

They had stayed well into the afternoon, and it was only the fact that a long drive lay ahead of them that finally meant they had to leave. 

"What you told her about me dad, about it being top secret and stuff, that were good," Tom said still sounding emotional as they sat in the car. "I mean there ain't no good way of tellin' somebody that someone is dead, but thanks for letting her think it were about something important. I think that'd help, well as much as anything can."

"Well it was important, wasn't it?" Andy said, pausing before switching on the engine. "You told me why he did it, to stop a vampire who was dangerous and who'd hurt and killed a lot of people, and would have kept on doing it unless he was stopped. He did it for you, but it helped a lot of other people too. And it's not like it could ever be made common knowledge. So as far as I'm concerned that was the truth."

Tom nodded, unable to find the words. 

"It's time to go home," Andy said, knowing that it would likely be the early hours of the morning before they finally arrived back in the Elan Valley. He'd drive for now, maybe Tom would drive later, but it didn't matter. They were going home and everything for once felt right. He put his hand over Tom’s, "We've got a wedding to book, remember.”

 

TBC in the last part. 

 

A/N

So here we are nearly at the end, so many words and so many months later.   
I've got my own head canon about McNair's family, which is sort of explored in Tipping Point which is set in the episode Thought the Heavens Fall from McNairs POV http://the-silver-sun.livejournal.com/230065.html  
If anybody is interested.


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